Knit Two Together
by ice princess deluxe
Summary: Collection of one-shots featuring Anders and Theodora Amell.
1. A Slice of Freedom

Title: A Slice of Freedom  
>Rating: G<br>Pairing: Anders/Amell  
>Summary: "Don't you ever want to know what it's like out there?"<br>Note: This was my 2010 Secret Swooper gift for emynii. Originally written 12/9/10.  
><strong>Series Note: <strong>Instead of having a bunch of oneshots scattered everywhere, I decided to edit and collect them all in one spot. I'm re-posting the ones I've already written in their original posted order. These were never meant to make one cohesive storyline, but when read (or knitted, knowing Thea) together; I think they work to offer brief glimpses of Anders and Theodora from various points in their story. If I do post something that's meant to follow a certain chapter, I'll make a note of it.

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><p>"You're leaving again, aren't you?" The question made Anders stop in his tracks. He could have sworn that he had been alone.<p>

"Are you _sure_ you're really a mage?" he asked, skirting an open bag of potting soil. The Tower's greenhouses were normally quiet this time of night; he hadn't expected to encounter anyone during his escape. "You're so sneaky; I swear you're a rogue in disguise and they've kept you here by mistake."

Theodora frowned and continued packing mulch over the fledgling elfroot buds she had been tending for the past few weeks. With the onset of winter, the weather was getting colder even in the safety of the greenhouse. If the seedlings froze now, she'd have to start all over again from scratch. "I can throw a fireball at you if you'd like," she said, not looking up from her task. She scooped out another handful of mulch from the bag with more force than necessary. "I just might do it anyway if it will knock some sense into you."

He set his pack down. The guards weren't due to change places for another fifteen minutes; he had been anticipating hiding out in the greenhouses until then anyway. "You're not going to try to talk me out of this again, are you?"

"Why should I bother? I haven't been able to talk you out of the past four attempts, now have I?"

"Well, no, but at this point you'll be breaking tradition if you don't at least offer up a token protest."

She sighed. "Couldn't you at least wait until after winter if you're so set on this? You're going to freeze to death if you try swimming across the lake now."

"Ah, but no one _expects_ me to swim across the lake during the winter." He tapped the side of his nose. "I'll have the element of surprise on my side."

"You'll have hypothermia on your side, more like. And here _you're_ the one that's supposed to be the healer." Task complete, Theodora turned to face him, her hands on her hips. "They'll only catch you again, and you know…"

Anders rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. I'll be put into solitary confinement for a few months and then Greagoir and First Enchanter will come by to tell me what a naughty mage I am. Wynne will more than likely make an appearance to inform me of how disappointed she is in me and then _you'll_ sneak past the guards to slip me a book since you know how bored I get cooped up in one place or you'll give me another pair of socks because you've heard me complain enough about how drafty solitary is." He walked over to her. "I've never thanked you properly for those, have I?"

She felt her cheeks warm and hoped that her face wasn't as red as her hair. "You're never around long enough to say anything," she mumbled instead, fidgeting with the hem of her robe. She turned her back to him and began to put her gardening tools away. When she didn't hear a reply, she figured that he had snuck off.

"Come with me." He said it so quietly that she was certain that she had imagined it.

Very slowly, she turned to face him. "What did you say?" His expression was unreadable, but the look in his eyes made her heart climb up into her throat.

"Come with me," he repeated, stepping closer to her. He reached out and tucked an errant curl behind her ear. "Don't you ever want to know what the outside is like? What it's like to actually _live_ without people looming over you at every turn or staring at you every second of the day? Don't you ever wonder what it's like to be free?"

She had never admitted it to anyone, least of all him, but she envied Anders' escapes. However briefly, he _had_ managed to breathe in air that wasn't musty from old tomes and feel what it was like to spend a day without Templars waiting for him to turn into an abomination at any given moment. The tiny, adventurous part of her wanted to leave with him and never look back, but her more practical nature eventually smothered it. "I'm not fond of freezing my arse off in the middle of the night," she said lightly, taking a small step away from him.

For a brief second, she could have sworn that he had looked crestfallen. "Ah, but that's why I'm here," he told her with a grin and waggle of his eyebrows, regaining his normal composure lightning-quick. "Every healer knows that the best way to stave off hypothermia is to get naked and snuggle up next to someone that's similarly naked." His eyes raked down her body and even though they had already been together a handful of times, the way he looked at her never failed to make her breath catch and her pulse pound.

She rolled her eyes at him. "I can already hear the gossip now. _'Look, its Amell and Anders. Did you hear how the Templars caught them? Oh yes, naked as the day they were born. Now if that wasn't a sight.'_ Reputations would be ruined."

"You're worried about my reputation? That's so sweet."

She smiled and shook her head. "I was talking about _mine_. You already have the reputation as an incorrigible flirt."

He couldn't help himself. Gathering her in his arms, he rested the shelf of his chin against the crown of her head. "And you wouldn't have me any other way."

She wrapped her arms around him, her fingers splaying across his back. "You really mean to leave?"

"I do." He rubbed his cheek against her hair. "It's still not too late to come along. Think of the fun we'd have! Two apostates on the run living life to the fullest - it's like the start of one of those romance novels you're so fond of."

She huffed. "I'll have you know that I read nothing of the sort."

"Oh? The books you have hidden underneath your mattress say otherwise."

She smacked the back of his head. "What have I told you about getting into my things?" Sighing, she pulled back. "Here, take this." She dug into the small pouch she normally kept her herbal clippings in and pulled out two sovereigns. "I know it isn't much, but at least it'll buy you dry clothes and some food."

"Where did you get these?"

She shrugged. "Cullen and a few other Templars might have been…_misplacing_ a few bits and silvers here and there for the past few months. I traded in what I could nip with the Tranquil so that you wouldn't jingle when you walked."

He gave her a suspicious look. "And since when did you start picking pockets, my lady? Not that it isn't appreciated, but still."

She bit her lip. "Since the last time you ran off. I figured that in between them finally discovering you missing and the time that you would have done in solitary confinement when they eventually caught you that I would have gathered up enough money to give you a decent head start when you decided to leave again."

He cupped her cheek with his hand. "You knew I would try again?"

"Some birds were never meant to be caged," she said. She turned her face into his palm. "And others are too frightened to fly from the only roost that they've known."

"If you could, what would be the first thing that you would do?" Anders threaded his fingers into her hair. "Forget about being a mage, forget about getting caught. What would be your first order of business once you were out of the Tower?"

She thought for a while before answering him. "I'd walk barefoot in the grass, just to feel it between my toes." Theodora had been very young when she had been brought to the Tower. There was nothing but stone on their little island; she could vaguely recall what it felt like to walk in sun-warmed fields or how the blades would tickle as she lay down amongst them and stared up at the sky overhead to try and find pictures hidden in the clouds. "It's silly, I know, but…"

He stopped her with a gentle finger against her lips. "It isn't silly," he said, his face serious. "I'm going to miss you, 'Dora."

"That's an awful nickname," she said, blinking away the tears that surprised them both.

"I'll have to come up with a better one while I'm away. Would you rather I call you Theo instead?"

She made a face. "The guards should be changing at any moment," she told him. "If you're going to leave, you'd better do so now." She rocked up onto the balls of her feet and kissed him, her hands sliding over his chest to rest at his shoulders. "And before you ask, yes, I'm going to miss you too. The Tower is far too quiet when you're away."

He looked down at her, a faint smile on his lips. "Wish me luck?"

"You'll need it." She fussed with the collar of his robe. "Please don't freeze any important bits off. Do you need a distraction?"

Anders grinned. "You're distraction enough to keep my important bits warm. Yet if you're talking about getting that Templar watching close by to look the other way, then I'd appreciate it."

"The things I do for you," she grumbled, hefting up a heavy terra cotta pot.

"That's because you can't resist my charming ways and handsome good looks." He quietly laughed as she mumbled something under her breath and tottered towards the greenhouse's front entrance. He crouched down low and edged his way towards the back door, picking up his bag as he went.

"Could you help me lift this, please?" he heard Theodora ask the Templar. "Wynne would have my head if I let these freeze; I'd feel so much better if they were inside where it was warmer."

"Liar," he whispered fondly, carefully opening the door and slipping outside. Anders stuck to the shadows until he made his way to the lake's edge. Bracing himself for the shock of hitting the cold water, he silently dove in and began to slowly swim to the other side.

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><p>Theodora sat on her bed in the apprentice's quarters, wondering how she was going to explain the fact that she had a tomato plant upstairs.<p>

"Let me guess," Jowan said, flopping down beside her. "Anders made another run for it."

She reached for her bag of yarn and shrugged. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I've been in the greenhouses all evening. The last time I saw Anders was this afternoon at lunch." She didn't have a lot of the blue yarn left, but she did have some more orange and yellow that she could use for stripes if she needed to. She mentally figured out how many stitches she would need for a sock that would fit Anders' foot and began to cast yarn onto her knitting needles. She really did wish that he'd find the freedom that he so wanted, but she figured that he would have at least a week before the Templars caught up to him. _Maybe two weeks; the weather is starting to turn for the worse._ If she estimated another two weeks to return to the Circle, she might have enough time to knit not only a pair of socks for his time in confinement, but perhaps a scarf as well.

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><p>It took the Templars two months to finally catch him and another month to bring him back. Theodora had been in the library when she heard the commotion and stuck her head out to investigate.<p>

"Ah, it's so good to be back! I love what you've done with the place; it looks the same as usual."

"Quiet, you!"

Anders spied her as he walked down the hallway. He'd grown the beginnings of a beard, probably as an attempt to avoid detection. She squinted. He'd also gotten his ear pierced during his time away. The combination of the gold hoop and stubble along with the unfamiliar tunic and snugly fitting trousers leant him a rakish air that sent a warm thrill through her. "'Dora! Here, be a dear and make sure all my things get put away." She grunted when he tossed his bag to her, but managed not to drop it. "I trust that my usual spot has been kept nice and drafty for me?"

Theodora watched him go, his pack held tightly in her arms. Cullen was eyeing her suspiciously, but she didn't care. Making her way back up the stairs to the mages' quarters, she knelt in front of Anders' trunk at the foot of his bed. Someone had left a note saying _Welcome Back_ on top of his pillow, but she doubted that he would be able to read it for a while. The Templars that had been with Anders had looked highly annoyed, which probably meant that he had made them work to catch him. She had meant to just leave his bag inside the trunk, but something made her stop and actually unpack it. She shook her head at the wadded up shirts stuffed close to the top. "At least he thought to wear something other than robes outside," she muttered, smoothing her fingers over the material before properly folding and putting the clothes away. "Robes tend to scream out _'Look, I'm a mage!' _rather loudly." Several odds and ends soon followed and she frowned at the large parchment envelope at the very bottom of the bag. Taking it out, she caught sight of Anders' handwriting.

_For Thea. __See? I found a better nickname for you, _it read. Very carefully, she broke the seal and looked inside.

"You knew you'd be back, didn't you?" she whispered, running her hands through the chunk of turf he had given her. He had put the piece of sod under some sort of enchantment – the blades of grass should have already been yellow and wilted brittle by now, but they were as fresh and green as they would have been in the spring. Her throat felt tight and for a moment, she found herself taken back to when she had been a little girl running through fields with her father, the sun warm on her face and the wind in her hair. She had been the apple of his eye once upon a time, before her magic had decided to manifest in the form of an accidental fireball that had destroyed their hayloft. She hugged the envelope tighter to her chest, inhaling the sweet springtime scent. Her father hadn't been able to look at her as the Templars took her away, her clothes still soot stained and reeking of smoke.

She sat back on her heels and wiped at her cheeks. Carefully placing the envelope and its treasure inside the bag she had meant to put her research books into before being interrupted, she wandered back to her own quarters. Knowing the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter, they would be lecturing Anders right about now. After that, Wynne _would_ make an appearance and lecture him some more. It probably wouldn't be until after dinner before she would get a chance to sneak by and hand him something to occupy his time. The scarf she had made out of the last bits of her yarn had turned out pretty long; she'd be able to wrap it around a thicker book than usual.

She put a protective hand to her bag. Anders might have been taken away from the freedom he desired, but in his own way, he had managed to bring a piece of it back with him.


	2. As Fast as my Feet Can Fly

Title: As Fast as my Feet Can Fly  
>Rating: PG-13 for mild mentions of sex<br>Pairing: Anders/Amell, a teeny bit of unrequited!Alistair/Amell, and a blink-and-you-miss-it cameo for Nathaniel/F!Cousland  
>Summary: Fifty pieces of a whole<br>Note: This was _supposed_ to be an entry for Livejournal's 1sentence community: where you take fifty prompts and write one sentence per prompt, but then it grew and took on a life of its own. Many of these are too short to make fifty different chapters (there are one or two that actually made the one sentence limit!) so I'm keeping them grouped up as one long one-shot instead. The prompt for each is in bold, but I rearranged them all to make a sort of timeline. Originally posted 2/1/10.

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><p><strong>#13 – View<strong>

"What are you doing?" The new apprentice the Templars had just brought in the other day was strange – he hadn't talked to anyone and had been seen wandering the halls muttering under his breath.

It was a shame that he was so anti-social; Theodora thought he was rather handsome. If she had to guess, he was more than likely in his mid-teens, just like she was. She had a lot of questions for him, like how he had managed to live so long on the outside without getting ratted out for using magic.

"Looking for a way out," he replied, which was more than he had ever said to anyone since arriving. "Don't you people have _windows_?"

"Not this high up the Tower. _Now_ what are you doing?"

He stopped knocking on the wall just long enough to throw her an irritated glance. "If there aren't any windows, then there's bound to be hidden doors or passageways or _something_. The front door can't be the only entrance and exit to this place."

"Well, there's the door in the kitchens. It doesn't really lead anywhere except the docks where we get our shipments of food, but there's a really nice view of the mainland from there. Why do you want to know?"

He looked at her as if he wasn't quite sure what to make of her. "How long have you been in here?"

"Since I was five."

"And you haven't stepped foot outside this island since then?" His tone was incredulous.

"Why would I?" Really, she wished he would stop looking at her like that. "So, why do you want to find a window or a way out anyway?"

He gave a short little laugh. "You're cute, so I won't burden you. Like you said, I just want to find a nice view." He extended his hand. "I'm Anders."

She took his hand, her eyes flying to his when she felt a warm tingle of magic travel up her arm. "I'm Theodora." The compliment he gave her had her cheeks burning, but she tried to keep her voice level.

He grinned, his grip on her hand solid and firm. "You don't know how glad I am that I met you."

She didn't think anything of it, but the next day the Tower was abuzz with news on how the Templars had shoved Anders into Knight Commander Greagoir's office and how he spent the day after that in solitary confinement for escaping.

"Well, it seems as if I've decided to extend my stay here," Anders said as he plopped himself in an empty seat next to her in the dining hall. He ignored the irritated look Jowan threw at him when he reached over and tore off a hunk of bread from Theodora's plate. "At least the food is good."

"Didn't like the _view_?" she asked archly, not looking up from the book on herbs she had borrowed from the library. She made a big show of turning the page and moving her head so that she could only see him out of the corner of her eye. When she found out that he had escaped by stowing away on the boat that had brought in their supplies, she was furious at herself for inadvertently helping him and had decided to dislike him on principle.

Even _if_ he thought she was cute.

"Oh, come on, 'Dora. Don't be that way," he cajoled, bumping her shoulder with his. The brief contact sent another tingle through her arm and she gasped, her face reddening.

"Her name is _Theodora_," Jowan said, stabbing his portion of roast more violently than necessary.

Out of her peripheral vision, she could see Anders smirk. "Ah, but she'll always be 'Dora to me, isn't that right?"

She closed her book and sighed. It was the best apology she was going to get out of him, if it even _counted_ as an apology to begin with. "That's an awful nickname," she said, pushing her half-eaten plate towards him. "The peas are actually quite good today."

Anders nodded, shoveling a forkful into his mouth. They hadn't fed him anything during his time in solitary confinement and he was _starving_. "They looked like they were; I got an up-close view of them a few days ago." He smirked again when she couldn't quite smother her giggle. The other mage across the table was glowering at them both, but he didn't care. At least he had found _one_ person who wasn't a complete sourpuss in his new home. _Temporary home,_ he silently amended, wondering how long it would be before he had another chance to try to make a run for it.

**#33 – World**

He hated History lessons, hated pouring over books and atlases to learn dates and places that held no meaning to him. The books were written in a way that put people to sleep and the atlases only served to remind him of places in Thedas that he was not allowed to go.

She loved History lessons, loved tracing her fingers over the names and places that they were tutored in. The books that they learned from were rather dry reading, but she often closed her eyes and imagined the places in Thedas they described, finding a vast world open to her within the musty pages.

**#19 – Candle**

For all his moaning and groaning about how he hated it in the Tower, Anders seemed to take to certain lessons. Jowan and Theodora were visiting the library one evening when Theodora spied him hunched over an oversized book of healing spells. She made her way over to him, but decided against the greeting she had been planning on giving him when she noticed that he was out cold over his notes.

She shook her head, gently easing the book he was currently creasing the pages of out from under his arm and blowing out the candle at his elbow before he accidentally knocked it over in his sleep.

**#36 – Laugh**

He found himself seeking Theodora out, teasing or joking with her just to see her reaction. She had a carefree laugh, one that was as clear as the little silver bells that used to hang at the front door of his hometown's inn. The sound had always soothed him, and he was finding out that hearing her laugh in a place that was full of hushed and oppressive silence had the same effect.

**#23 – Fire**

"I need you to help me practice," he said.

She didn't look up from her notes. "If you want me to cut myself so you can practice your healing again, you've got another thing coming."

He rolled his eyes. "Come on; that was just one time and I hardly nicked your finger. You act as if I had stabbed you to practice healing deep puncture wounds."

"It _hurt_, you big dope."

"Then this is your lucky day. You don't have to do anything except watch from the sidelines and give me pointers today."

She closed her notebook and gave him her full attention. "Just what am I supposed to be giving you pointers on?"

"Casting fire spells. I'm solid on ice and lightning, but I can hardly make a spark." He leaned against the table and made big eyes at her. "Help me?"

Fifteen minutes later, they were both in the Tower's casting circle. "You're trying too hard," she explained, watching as the weak flames at the tip of his staff wavered and died. "You can't force any of the Primal arts to happen."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Let them use you as a conduit. The trick to any of them is to think of what you want to happen and then _let_ it happen. See?" She held out her hand, a bright flame dancing in the center of her palm.

"Hey, you're really good at that."

She closed her fist, the fire immediately extinguishing. "My tutors say I'm a natural." She thought back to when she had been five. It had been early winter and she had been hiding in her father's hayloft, wishing with all her might that she could be warm for once that day. She hadn't even been thinking of it, but she could remember being frightened out of her wits when fire shot out of her fingers and set the hay ablaze.

She cleared her throat. "Now, try it again," she suggested, tucking her hands into the sleeves of her robes.

**#09 – Red**

What Anders really disliked was the near absence of color in the Tower. The colors that were sparsely spaced out in between the oppressing grey stone and Templar armor were muted and dim. He missed the vibrant blue of a clear spring day, the crisp green from the fields in summer, the bursting array of colors that filled the marketplace.

And then he saw Theodora sitting in a corner of the library with her knitting needles quietly clicking away, the bright red of her hair standing out amid all the grey like a beacon. She looked up from her project and smiled – he had it on good authority that the yarn dyed a robin's egg blue was destined to become a pair of socks for him –and suddenly Anders didn't feel quite so bad.

**#03 – Memory**

"What do you miss most about the outside?"

"Taking for granted the fact that no one was staring at me every single second of the day." Anders said that with a resentful glare shot towards a nearby Templar.

Theodora sighed. "Seriously, Anders."

Anders rolled his eyes, but turned back towards the book he had been pretending to study for the past hour. "All right, I'll answer you seriously. I miss the sun on my back and the wind in my hair. I miss the smell of the grass after a rainstorm and the taste of warm bread fresh out of the oven. I grew up near a bakery; the lady that ran it had a soft spot for little urchins and always made a roll or two out of leftover dough just for me." He smiled at the memory. "I'd like to go there again."

"That does sound nice."

"What about you? What do you miss most about the outside?"

She tilted her head to the side and frowned. Distant memories bubbled up to the surface: the warm feel of a puppy falling asleep curled up next to her, spending her days outdoors running through fields, and a man with hair the same color as hers swooping her up in his arms and tickling her until she giggled. She blinked and that same man was handing her off to the Templars, his clothes blackened with soot. _Papa loves you; don't ever forget that. I'd do anything to keep you safe, even if it means sending you away._ She had turned in the cart that had carried her towards the Tower, watching as her normally larger than life father became a small speck on the horizon. She could clearly remember crying and screaming out for him before one of the older Templars had gently shushed her, but her father had merely stood there, his gaze stuck on the ground at his feet and his shoulders shaking.

She shook her head, bringing herself back to the present. "I can't remember much," she said instead. "I was very young when I was brought here."

"That's too bad."

She took a breath, locking her memories away for safekeeping. "Yes. I guess it is."

**#07 – Wings**

Anders had found a bird near the docks after a storm once. It had been half-starved and exhausted, its wing broken beyond natural repair. He had gently picked it up and gone inside, spending the next three days slowly healing it. The wing had eventually healed, but there hadn't been a thing Anders could have done to coax it to eat.

"It was it's time," Wynne had said gently, her hand on her pupil's shoulder as he cradled the dead bird in his arms. "You did the best you could." She pitied the boy; if he would only put aside his wild need to be free of the place and concentrate, she thought that he had the potential to be one of the finest Spirit Healers she had ever taught.

Theodora found him hours later pouring over thick tomes, a stack of parchment full of his own notes nearby. "What are you doing?" she asked, looking over his shoulder. She did poorly in the Creation school of magic; her talents were strongest in the Primal and Entropic schools, but even she recognized the complex glyphs and complicated incantations needed to perform higher level healing spells.

"Getting better," Anders replied, not looking up from his book. "My best isn't good enough for me."

**#26 – Ice**

"Hold out your hand," he told her. "And close your eyes."

"This isn't some sort of trick, is it?" she asked dubiously.

"Of course not. Come on, 'Dora, trust me."

She sighed, but slid her eyes shut. She started when he carefully held onto her hand, magic tingling at her palm. "What are you doing?"

"Shush, I'm concentrating." Cold traveled up her arm, but she didn't open her eyes to investigate. "There, now you can look."

She opened her mouth, speechless as she stared at the perfectly formed flower sitting in her palm made entirely out of ice. "Anders, this is beautiful."

He shrugged. "There used to be huge patches of sunflowers in the town I grew up in. You remind me of them."

She closed her hand over the sculpture, heedless of the freezing cold that had already numbed her palm. Impulsively, she rocked up on the balls of her feet and pressed her lips to his. "Thank you. I'll treasure it."

He watched as she walked away, staring at the corridor she disappeared down with his fingers over his bottom lip and a silly grin on his face.

**#35 – Fever**

He sat at her bedside and placed yet another cool cloth over her forehead. She'd been sick for the past few days, but the fever was a new development.

"I never told you how they caught me," he said, staring at her closed eyelids. "One of my friends had cut himself. We didn't think anything of it until the skin around the wound was streaked with red and was hot to the touch. He would have died, but I held my hands over his leg and thought about how much I wanted it to heal, how I wanted him to live. I was just as surprised as my friend was that it had worked, but someone at the Chantry had caught on to what I had done and alerted my parents, who turned me over to the Templars." Instead of latching onto the image of his father looking down at him in disgust, his mother's sorrowful stare and the resentment he felt towards them both, he reached out and wound his fingers around a long lock of her hair. Someone had unbraided it and left it loose while she slept and Anders had never seen her with her hair down before. She reminded him of one of those princesses in the stories his friends had loved to tell that were under a spell, waiting for their prince to kiss them awake.

He sighed. They might be locked in a tower, but he was definitely no prince. Instead of kissing her, he simply held onto her hands, concentrating hard on the incantations needed for a regeneration spell.

**#42 – Talk**

"I heard from Frieda, who heard from Thomas, who heard from Cameron, who heard from Rebecca, who overheard Anders telling Geoffrey that he kissed you yesterday," Jowan said. "Is it true?"

"Someone needs to learn to keep his big mouth shut," Theodora muttered, blushing as red as her hair.

**#37 – Lies**

"He's staring at you."

Theodora looked over her shoulder just in time to see the Templar quickly look away. "Who, Cullen? He tends to do that."

"And you don't mind?" Anders sounded incredulous.

"It's his duty."

"I'm not saying that he's staring as if you're going to transform into an abomination at any given moment and rip his face off, I'm saying that he's staring as if he's mentally undressing you."

She ducked her shoulders and grabbed his arm, dragging him around to another aisle of books. "Will you be _quiet_?" she hissed. "In case you haven't noticed, these walls echo. I'm sure that he heard you."

"So? Maybe I _want_ him to hear. Just because he's new doesn't mean that he can get away with staring at certain people. I'll not have it."

Now it was her turn to sound incredulous. "You'll not have it? Anders, are you jealous?" She looked at him seriously, noticing how worked up he was over their conversation. "You _are_, aren't you?"

He puffed out his cheeks and couldn't quite look her straight in the eye. "Of _course_ I'm not jealous. Why would I be jealous of some Templar? Just because he's tall, broad shouldered, and has the ability to smite me into next month doesn't mean anything." He rolled his eyes and made a small _pfft_ noise. "Jealous, _please_."

She quirked an eyebrow at his obvious lies. "I'm glad you feel that way. I'll have you know that I have a secret weakness for redheaded men." She reached out and trailed her index finger across his bottom lip. "Now stop pouting over nothing and leave the new recruit alone."

It took him an entire minute to actually see his way through her fib. Yanking a random book off the shelf, he quickly made his way back to her side, his shoulders thrown back and his chin up. He breezed past the new Templar, who looked slightly perplexed by Anders's grin.

"You look far too smug," she commented, turning a page in her book on advanced medicinal herbs. "If you don't quit, I just might ask him to smite you into next week just for fun."

Anders snorted. "My dear lady, I had no idea you cared so much."

**#11 – Midnight**

"We're going to get caught," she whispered even as she reached for him, gasping when he pressed her up against the bookshelves.

"Who's going to look for us here?" he asked, trailing kisses down the side of her throat, his hands hurriedly gliding over her robes. "The library is empty at this hour."

She bit back a tiny laugh. "_Everywhere _is empty at this hour. It's past midnight."

"Yes, but now I'm going to enjoy studying these old books a whole lot more than I normally would." He buried his face against the side of her neck as he sank into her, shuddering at the sensation. "You don't want to do this?"

"Yes," she whimpered, her nails digging into his clothed shoulders. She arched her back and bit her lip to smother a moan, the back of her head hitting another shelf. "It's just that I'm going to be bruised in funny places tomorrow morning."

He kissed her desperately, his hands at the backs of her thighs. "I'll heal them," he said quietly, nudging her nose affectionately with his.

**#49 – Lock**

"You want me to do _what_?" she whispered, standing close so she could see Anders through the thick bars on the top of the solid wooden door.

"Pick the lock. Or blast it off; I can't do it from this side or else I already would have."

"You're absolutely crazy if you think that I'm going to do such a thing," she told him. "And you need to stop thinking about it yourself. You should be grateful that they haven't made you Tranquil yet." This was the third time that they had brought him back, the third time that he had tried to run away. She was deathly afraid that one of these times when she snuck out past curfew to visit him that he wouldn't be there, that she'd find him in the storage rooms instead, face placid and voice devoid of all emotion. The thought that his expressive face and entertaining personality could be stolen from him sent shivers down her spine.

"They wouldn't dare. I've heard them talk about how talented a healer I am. They'd be hurting themselves more than me if they turned down that path." He didn't say it, but he was just as afraid of being turned as she was. He didn't know what would happen if one day he would look at her and not feel any affection, any desire for her, to have that part of him locked away from him forever. He reached out and brushed his fingers over hers from where they gripped the bars tightly. "Don't worry about me," he said quietly.

"I can't help it," she whispered back. She withdrew her fingers, pushing something soft through the bars instead. "It gets cold at night," she explained, wondering what he thought about the thick scarf she had knitted for him. She had started the project up the last time he had been put into solitary confinement, but had only finished it just recently, setting it aside for other projects, such as mending and hemming fellow apprentices' clothing and assisting with making robes for the younger initiates.

He wound the scarf over his hands, inhaling and marveling at the way that it smelled like her – the scent of vanilla from the kitchens and herbs from the greenhouse soothing his impatient nerves. "You'd better get going," he said. "The guard might be back and I don't want you to get into trouble." He listened as she gave him a hurried farewell, then as her footsteps echoed down the hallway. _She's horrible at this whole sneaking business,_ he thought, burying his nose in the thick material. He glanced out of the lone narrow slit in the stone that served as a window and waited for daylight.

**#29 – Dance**

"She's finally lost her mind."

Anders looked over the shoulder of another mage. "Who has?" _Really, it could be any one of us,_ he thought. _Lock anyone away in a tower with minimal windows and see how long they last before they go around the bend._

"Amell. The Templars are still deciding on what they should do about her." The apprentice pointed out past the gardens. The rain was coming down in sheets, making it hard for Anders to see, but he made out a familiar flash of red hair.

"We're both going to get sick, I just know it," he muttered under his breath, pushing past the growing audience and stepping outside. He was soaked through almost immediately. "What in Andraste's name do you think you're doing?" he shouted, trying to be heard over the rumble of thunder. His arms felt heavy as his robes clung to his body.

"It's raining!" Theodora yelled back, lifting the hem of her robes up to her calves. She was barefoot, mud squelching between her toes. The garden was the only place on their little island that wasn't completely paved with stone, but the dirt there had always been free of grass, making it stark and bare, just like the rest of the Tower.

"Brilliant observation," he said dryly. "Can we go back inside now?"

"Isn't it beautiful?" Theodora asked, throwing her arms wide to her sides and twirling around in a circle. In that moment, _she_ was beautiful, her hair plastered to her scalp and her head tilted back as she laughed. Anders soon found himself unable to stop from laughing along with her. He gave a whoop and gathered her in his arms, leading them both in a quick dance step he had learned in Redcliffe the last time he had been there.

_Templars and colds be hanged,_ he mused, closing his eyes as Theodora threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled him down for a kiss. _This is the freest I've ever felt in this place._

**#17 – Promise**

"The weather is turning cold; make sure you stay warm."

"I will."

"And don't spend all your money on stupid things. Save some for food."

He sighed. "Of course."

"And…"

He took her hands in his and bent his head, kissing the backs of her fingers. "I'll be _fine_, now stop worrying over me."

She moved closer so she could touch her forehead to his. "This is pointless," she whispered. "They're only going to catch you again."

"Yes, but until they catch me, I can enjoy the fresh air and have myself a bit of an adventure. And who knows? Maybe this will be the one time that they don't catch up with me." He tilted his head and captured her lips with his. "I'll watch out for myself, but you have to promise me something in return."

"What's that?"

"That you won't worry about me while I'm gone."

She rolled her eyes, but leaned forward so she could kiss him again. "I don't know if I can, but I promise that I'll try."

He let go of one of her hands and trailed his knuckles down her cheek. "That's good enough for me."

**#43 – Search**

"You know where he is, don't you?" Knight Commander Greagoir asked her. She had a feeling that Anders's escape was the reason why she had been called into First Enchanter Irving's office, but the question still managed to surprise her.

"Where who is, Ser?" she asked, sitting in one of Irving's chairs with her hands clasped demurely in her lap. She had always been intimidated by Greagoir, even though it was obvious that he was trying his hardest to look as non-threatening as a man wearing heavy armor could be.

"Now Theodora," Irving interjected, his hand gentle on her arm. "Please, don't draw this out any longer than it has to be. When Anders left, did he tell you where he might go?"

She shook her head. "Anders and I might talk, but he never mentions where he plans on going." She didn't know if Anders had planned on keeping her in the dark just for this reason or because even he didn't really know where he was going to end up at after he left the Tower. If pressed, she would put her money on the latter reason. He never did put much stock on long-range plans. "I didn't even know that he was planning on escaping." That was a lie, but they didn't have to know about it.

"You're his friend," Irving said.

"More than a _friend_, I would wager," Greagoir muttered under his breath.

Irving frowned at the Templar, but decided not to comment. "You're his friend," he repeated. "If there was anything, no matter how trivial that he might have said to you, let us know so that we may search for him."

Theodora shook her head. "I wish I could help you, but I can't."

"Can't or _won't?_"

She gave Greagoir a level glance. "_Can't_. Your best bet would be to send Templars out to every corner of Thedas, including places outside of Ferelden. Anders desperately wants to be anywhere else besides here, but you already knew that."

Greagoir sighed. "Then I guess that we will have to use his phylactery to track him down, like usual. I told you asking this girl was a waste of time."

Theodora waited until Irving had dismissed her before she stood and left the room. As long as she could remember, she had adhered to the rules of the Circle. She'd never rebelled in any way or fashion, but just this once, she wished that she knew where Anders's phylactery was in order to destroy it so that no one would be able to track him down ever again, even if…

_Even if it means that I'll never see him again,_ she thought sadly, making her way back to the apprentice's quarters.

**#47 – Highway**

The road might be dusty and long, the highway littered with ruts from wagons, but every step he took was a step Anders was taking in delicious freedom. His only regret was that he couldn't share the same jubilant feeling with Theodora.

**#27 – Fall**

_It would be easy to fall in love with her,_ he thought, never realizing that he had fallen a long, long time ago.

**#44 – Hope**

When he had been gone for nearly a month and a half, Theodora quietly began to hope that Anders had finally evaded the Templars and gained the freedom he so desired.

**#12 – Temptation**

"_Come with me."_ Theodora tossed on her mattress and tried to forget the look on Anders's face when he asked her to run away with him. She couldn't; there were advanced classes to attend, young children to tutor, plants to tend to. Her duties far outweighed the consequences of following him, as did the knowledge that no matter how far they ran, they would eventually be caught. The Tower was her home; she had been taught to follow orders, to not buck the system, to quietly move through her life in order to serve others. And yet…

"_Come with me."_ She groaned and flipped to her side, the heels of her hands pressing against her eyes. Why did his offer have to sound so tempting?

**#01 – Ring**

When the Templars brought him back to the tower after his most recent escape, Anders had pierced his ear and his hair had grown out until it curled around his collar. They'd cut his hair and confiscated the ring as punishment for running away, which Theodora thought was stupid – the hair merely grew back while he was in solitary confinement and he managed to purchase a replacement earring from a merchant doing business with the Tranquil. He'd given First Enchanter and Knight Commander a look as if daring them to punish him yet again for his defiance, but oddly enough, they let it go.

**#04 – Box**

She kept the enchanted piece of sod Anders had given her in a box buried deep underneath her robes and books. She might not have many personal items, but the little two foot by three foot square of grass he had brought back from the mainland was her most prized possession in a place that was mostly built out of stone.

**#46 – Gravity**

She was being exiled from the Tower. Theodora could handle the angry glares from the Templars for her part in destroying Jowan's phylactery, she could handle the disappointed look First Enchanter had given her for siding with a Blood Mage (even if, in her defense, she hadn't _known_ what Jowan had become) but what finally brought home how dearly her decisions had cost her was the sad way that Anders had stared at her from the front doors of the Tower as she and the Grey Warden got into the boat that would take them to the mainland. She stared back at him until he was nothing more than a small dot on the horizon, silent tears slipping down her cheeks as she thought of another man that she had once loved before that she had left behind in a similar fashion.

**#39 – Overwhelmed**

_Do this, help them, kill that._ It seemed as if Theodora's life had turned into an endless cycle of killing darkspawn and helping travelers that they came across. It wasn't as if she could say _no_ to any of them either; it felt wrong to turn her back on anyone in need, much to Morrigan's annoyance. Still, she was so unused to people looking to her for guidance, for deciding important things that meant life or death for others.

_Save us_. She slid down the wall and buried her face in her hands. "I can't do this," she whispered in the darkness. "I don't know if I'm doing the right thing, I don't know _why_ people are asking me to lead. I…"

_You can sit around feeling sorry for yourself Thea, or you can stand up and do something about it. Wrong or right, you're doing the best that you can. If they don't like it, then they can sod off and decide things on their own._ She gave a slightly frantic giggle, wondering just when her voice of reason began to sound like Anders. "And I must be going mad if _Anders_ is starting to sound reasonable," she grumbled, standing up and brushing her knees. Yet still, the curt, businesslike thought was enough of a kick in the pants to get her over her little bout of self-pity. She might not know just what she was supposed to do, but she was going to do everything to the best of her abilities.

**#14 – Music**

"Is there anyone in the Tower that you miss?" Leliana asked, her fingers moving along the strings of her newly purchased lute. She was playing a song that Theodora could have sworn she could remember Anders humming for weeks after coming back from his second escape. "Anyone special?"

Theodora looked back down at the shirt she had in her hands. Alistair had gotten a horrible gash in the sleeve from their last darkspawn encounter. Morrigan's poultices had taken care of the wound on his arm, but Theodora took it upon herself to mend the tear in his clothes. She'd had a lot of practice; mage robes were made of good fabric, but even the sturdiest of pieces managed to get careworn over time. She traced her fingers over the stitches she had started, thinking back to how she used to let the hems out of Jowan's robes when he hit growth spurts as a teenager, the little pieces of embroidery she sewed on her own sleeves, the rips that she had repaired in Anders's…

_Really Anders, did you have to run through a patch of brambles to avoid Templars? Wasn't there anywhere else to hide?_

"There is one person," she replied, picking her needle back up. She'd have to hurry if she wanted to use the last of the daylight to her advantage. Sewing by firelight had always strained her eyes. "But I can't say if he's still at the Tower or not. He has a habit of breaking out."

"He's done what? I thought that the Tower was supposed to be impossible to leave."

Theodora shook her head. "Oh, it is. It's just that he's found…" she frowned and mentally counted all of Anders's escapes. "Four different ways to leave."

Alistair looked up from sharpening his sword. "You mean that there's someone that's escaped _four_ times?"

"Five, actually. He swam across the lake twice." Her smile fell when she thought about how he had looked the last time she had seen him. "He was still there when I left, but I'm certain that he'll try to leave again. Knowing the Templars, they'll have upped their watches after the mess that Jowan and I made, which will more than likely make his job difficult."

"Do you love him?" Leliana played another part of the song, the music definitely the same tune she had heard before in the Tower.

"I don't know. The mages at the Tower can't afford to love anyone; it isn't like we can settle down in one of the unused floors and raise a family. I do know that I care for him a great deal and that in his own way, he feels something for me." They had never declared their feelings for one another before, but it hadn't seemed necessary; their actions had spoken far louder than words ever could.

"Well?" Leliana prompted, setting aside her lute so she could sit closer to Theodora. "What's he like? And don't leave any detail out!"

It wasn't long before both women were, as Morrigan put it from her post at her own campfire, chattering on like magpies, Leliana pulling information out of Theodora that she hadn't thought to share with anyone. She hadn't really _had_ anyone to share these things with before; sure Jowan had been her best friend, but it would have just been awkward to go on about how it felt to be kissed or how happy she had been when Anders gave her a new ball of yarn he had wheedled out of a visiting merchant.

Neither of them noticed how Alistair had quietly moved away from them, or the gentle way he held a rose before carefully placing it back in his pack with a sigh and a sad shake of his head.

**#05 – Run**

"Where is he?" she demanded, looking over the remaining mages. _I've never truly prayed for anything before, but please, if there's anyone listening; let him have escaped before this mess started._ "Has anyone seen Anders?"

One of the younger apprentices looked up from bandaging the wounds that her fledgling healing talents hadn't been able to mend. "The Templars caught him a week ago. He's been in solitary…" Theodora didn't let the girl finish; she gathered the hem of her robes in her hands and ran as fast as she could down the twisted corridors and stairwells.

"Theodora, wait!" Alistair yelled after her, muffled curses and the clank of his armor as he ran behind echoing down the silent halls. "You don't know if it's safe or not!"

She skidded to a halt, her hand covering her mouth at the sight of charred remains littered in front of the door leading to solitary confinement. The door itself bore scorch marks from the slit where plates of food were normally passed. "Anders?" she called out, her voice cracking. "Are you still alive in there?"

"I'm giving you one warning," a tired sounding voice said from behind the thick door. "Step any closer and be prepared to be zapped."

"Anders, it's me!" she said, all but sinking to her knees in relief. He sounded horrible, but at least he was still talking.

There was a shuffling noise, almost as if he were making his way closer to the door. "Theodora? Is that really you?"

"It is. I've come to get you out of here."

"How do I know that it's you? If you turn out to be a desire demon in disguise, I'm going to be highly put out," he grumped.

"He's not really all that convinced, is he?" Alistair asked, still winded from the run up several flights of stairs.

She gave a weak laugh. "Say something only the real me would know the reply to."

There was a heavy sigh from his side of the door. "Oh come on, 'Dora. I haven't eaten in nearly three days; I can't think of anything at the moment."

Theodora pressed her palms against the wooden door and stood on tiptoe to look through the barred cut-out high on the door that she had so often passed books and knitted socks through. "If I've told you before, I've told you a hundred times. That is the most _awful_ nickname you could have ever come up with for me."

She caught a glimpse of red-rimmed yet relieved looking eyes from behind the bars. "Get me out, Thea."

"Stand back," she warned. "And cover your eyes." She took a step backwards and fired an arcane bolt at the door's lock. Sparks flew, but she did manage to knock the heavy lock down.

"You never were any good with raw magic," Anders quipped, eyeing the damage she had caused. There was a week's worth of beard on his cheeks and it looked like he hadn't slept in days, but Theodora had never been so relieved to see him before.

"Shut up," she said, throwing her arms around his neck and tugging him down for a kiss. She had meant to just brush her lips against his, but everything that she had been trying desperately to repress in order to make it through the Tower with her sanity intact came welling up and spilling forth in the form of a loud sob.

"Shhh," he murmured, his hands moving over her back in soothing circles. He pressed his face against the side of her hair and held on tightly. "You're going about this all wrong. When you get the chance to leave the Tower, you stay _away_ from the Tower. You don't come back on your own."

Her laugh was muffled against his throat. "I guess I've been watching how you've done it for so long that I figured that was the way to do things," she told him. She moved away only far enough to wipe at her face with the heel of her palm.

"I hate to put a damper on your reunion," Alistair piped up, "but we're needed back at Redcliffe."

"Of course." Theodora wound her fingers around Anders's as the three of them made their way back downstairs. Theodora couldn't help but notice the way Anders's eyes widened as he took in all the death and destruction they encountered on each floor. Silently, he slipped away from Theodora when they hit ground level and went to work assisting those that were injured.

"You can come with us," she told him, once her business was completed with Irving and Greagoir. "This can be your big chance to go and never look back."

The look he gave her was conflicted, his features twisting in regret. "I could, but I _can't_." He gestured to the ruins of the Tower and at the mages and Templars who were sitting looking shell shocked. "I'm needed here."

She gave him a rueful smile. "I should have known that you were all talk. You're a healer at heart, aren't you?"

He smirked at her. "I can't help it. This makes for a pretty ironic moment, doesn't it?"

Theodora traced the side of his face with her fingers. "Take care of yourself, Anders," she said, stepping away. She thought about it for a moment before moving back closer to him and giving him a tight hug. "When you're not needed here as badly, don't hesitate to look for me."

He framed her face with his hands. "I might take you up on that offer," he said. Leaning down, he kissed her one last time. "I have a feeling that we'll see one another again someday."

**#50 – Breathe**

She hadn't been able to see the mage's identity through the blistering waves of heat and bright flash of fire that had shot out of his fingers, but once the smoke died down and the last darkspawn fell to its knees, Theodora felt the air grow still around her, emotion making it difficult for her to breathe.

The mage looked around at the ruin that he had just caused. "I didn't do it." He seemed shocked at the sound of strained laughter that came from one of the people in front of him before squinting to truly see just who he was up against. "Thea?"

"It would seem that you've finally gotten the hang of casting fire spells," she said quietly, stepping over a dead body in order to come next to him. Her fingers shook as they traced over his chin. She would have said more, but the other woman next to her cleared her throat.

"Commander, we need to keep moving."

Anders let out an impressed whistle. "Commander, is it? My, I leave you alone for a while and look what happens."

She straightened her spine and tilted her head up. "We don't have much time to catch up, but if you're interested, you can come with us. We need to find as many survivors as possible."

He nodded, falling into step beside and a little to the right of her. Her staff was already crackling with energy, her eyes practically glowing in the dim light. She was best with primal magic, Anders recalled, knowing that his skills as a healer would more than likely come into play, as would his knowledge of certain hexes that would considerably slow their enemies down. "You should know by now that I'll follow you anywhere, Amell" he quipped. The remark was supposed to be said teasingly, but it managed to come out of his mouth in a completely serious manner.

She looked up at him, her eyes full of lightning, and smiled.

**#48 – Unknown**

"There's something that I wanna know," Oghren said, settling down in the dining hall next to Theodora. He tucked into his meal and waved a drumstick in her direction. "It's about Sparkle Fingers. Do you…"

She sighed, wondering just how long it would take for her old friend to bring up her relationship with Anders. "Before you finish, _yes_, we know each other. We've spent years in the Tower together and have more than likely done all the things that you have a list of euphemisms for."

"So…"

"And I'll add in a few more – how do _polishing the staff,_ _speaking in tongues_, and _performing the forbidden rite_ work for you?"

Very slowly, he turned and looked at her. "I was _gonna_ ask you if the new guy might be able to clear up this rash I've gotten, seeing as he's a healer and all, but at least that saves me from asking another question later on."

Theodora blinked. "Oh. Um…"

Oghren held up his hands in a defensive gesture. "Hey, it ain't none of my business what goes on behind closed doors. Whatever blows the wind up your skirt and all that." He chortled into his mug. "Or his _dress_, in this case."

"They're called robes," she managed to mumble. She got up and jerked her thumb towards the door. "I'll just…go ask him to check that rash for you."

He shook his head, marveling at her speedy retreat. "Polishing the staff," he mused. "Should've thought of that one myself."

**#28 – Forgotten**

"How could I ever forget Mister Wiggums?" she asked, handing Anders the little kitten she had found in the courtyard. "He used to leave dead mice by the dormitory door." She remembered how fond Anders had been of that cat and she hoped that giving him the new kitten was a good idea.

"Of course he did; he was a good mouser. And what about _you_?" he asked the orange and white striped kitten. "Are you a good mouser? Yes, I think you are!"

"So, what are you going to name him?"

He looked up. "I can't _name_ him. Names mean that he's going to stay and we're going to be on the move…" He absently stroked the kitten's ears. "I can't leave him out here though; it's raining. Perhaps I'll keep him in my pack until we can find someone to take him in."

What she had forgotten was the way that Anders turned into a complete ball of mush at the mere sight of a cat. She grinned at how Anders was already mumbling under his breath about finding a nice bit of string and a warm saucer of milk for the kitten. "I'm sure we'll find someone that will love to have him," she said, knowing that the animal was well on its way to becoming a permanent member of their party.

**#30 – Body**

"I do believe this is the first time that I've ever seen you naked," Anders commented, reclining on his side, his head resting on his arms. He had already shed his robes, the firelight playing along his skin made Theodora want to abandon the clasps that had suddenly become awkward to open in favor of climbing onto the bed to _touch_ him.

"I think you're right," she said instead, finally working the clasp open. They might have had numerous intimate encounters in the Tower, but the most skin she had ever seen him bare had been a little triangle at his throat where his robes met his neck. Her eyes closed on their own accord as she remembered how he used to shiver when she ran her tongue along that line, and how his hands used to tighten on her hips in response. Very slowly, she began to shimmy her clothes down her body, slowly baring her shoulders to his eyes. "Are you going to come over here and help me?"

"Oh no," he breathed, his voice deepening with desire. "I think I'll stay here and enjoy the show."

**#31 – Sacred**

She was expecting the usual greedy hands, the hurried caresses that he had given her whenever they came together in the Tower and the chances of being discovered were high; the slow, careful way that he explored every inch of her skin as if she were something precious, something sacred, was completely new and brought her to the verge of tears.

**#21 – Silence**

"I should have known," he said, rolling to his side while still trying to catch his breath.

"What?" she asked, moving with him. Having the luxury of both time and a bed was a novelty; much to her delight, Theodora was quickly finding out that Anders was a cuddler.

He wrapped his arms around her and traced the line of her throat with his tongue. "All this time, I figured that it was just your way to be silent during our little meetings." He gave her a wicked grin, his hands slowly gliding down her body and making her gasp. "I think I like being able to make you scream."

Theodora hooked her leg around his waist and twisted, moving so that he was flat on his back and she was perched atop him. "Bet you can't do it again," she whispered, her hair hanging down around them like a fiery curtain.

"Now there's a wager I aim to win." Anders tangled his hands in her hair, dragging her down for a kiss.

**#02 – Hero**

She would never be able to put it in words, but she was forever grateful that there was at least one person outside the Tower that didn't regard her as the Hero of Ferelden – once someone had seen you scream bloody murder at the sight of a toad (Anders had chased her around the dormitory with it, laughing all the while), it was difficult to take you seriously, even if you _had_ been the one to slay an archdemon.

**#16 – Cover**

"All I want is a pretty girl, a decent meal, and the right to shoot lightning at fools."

Theodora arched her eyebrow. "Pretty girl, right here," she said. "Or am I merely chopped liver?"

Anders scoffed. "Pretty doesn't begin to describe you, my lady." He draped his arm around her shoulders. "Ravishing, yes. Dangerously gorgeous, absolutely. Yet merely _pretty_? I think you sell yourself short."

She could feel herself blushing. They were in the middle of Amaranthine; she hadn't expected him to utter such declarations in public. "Anders…"

"And since I have such a lovely lady at my side and have eaten a decent breakfast, when do I get to shoot lightning at fools?"

She laughed, knowing full well that he was using his remark as a cover to how he really felt, especially since their companions were paying attention. "You just might get your chance in the marketplace," she said, winking at him. "Now, let's go take on these smugglers that are prowling about."

**#06 – Hurricane**

It wasn't the first time that he had seen her call up the Tempest spell, but the way that her eyes lit up with her magic and how the hem of her robes whipped about in the hurricane force winds she created out of thin air never failed to steal his breath away.

**#22 – Journey**

"I didn't know that there was so much walking involved," Anders moaned from up ahead. Nathaniel and Theodora shared a look that said that they should have left him at the Keep instead of taking him along to the Wending Wood. "Are we there yet? My feet hurt."

"If you keep on complaining like that, I can make sure that you're permanently stationed back at the Circle Tower," she said breezily, inspecting the trail ahead of them.

"You know, my feet suddenly don't hurt anymore."

"I didn't think that they would."

**#20 – Talent**

"I thought," Oghren said, spitting out a mouthful of stew from his bowl, "that you said all you mages got a turn in the kitchens."

Theodora looked at her own portion, thinking that the usual reddish brown beef stew shouldn't have been the pasty grey color it currently was. She glanced over at the fire and from the dubious look on Nathaniel's face; she could tell that he was thinking the same exact thing. "We did. It's just that where some people had more talent helping the cooks, others excelled at merely washing the dishes." She looked over at the fire and winced at the ominous _plorpping_ sounds coming from the covered pot sitting on the coals. "Anders happens to be wonderful at washing dishes."

Their conversation quieted when the person in question came back from washing his hands in the nearby stream. "Well?" he asked expectantly, a hopeful smile on his face. "How do you like it?"

She tried to make encouraging sounds while she choked down the rest of her bowl, but Oghren's loud gagging noises were doing little to help, as was Nathaniel's remark about planning to use whatever was left over as a potent poison.

**#34 – Formal**

He couldn't help staring; the dress she wore to greet Amaranthine's nobility was so different than any robes that he had ever seen her in. She even had her hair styled differently; the way that it fell in soft waves around her cut the formal atmosphere a tiny bit, making her look more approachable than her usual severe braids worn in tight coils at the back of her neck. She looked graceful and elegant and he wondered just what a woman that beautiful could ever see in him.

Then she caught his eye from across the room and smiled, and he couldn't help but smile back at her in return.

**#08 – Cold**

The Blackmarsh was miserable during the day, but it was even more so at night. It had rained recently and the air and ground held a damp chill that was impossible to shake. Theodora's arm ached where a blighted werewolf had bitten her; Nathaniel had his hands busy keeping two other wolves at bay and Anders had been in mid-cast so he'd been unable to help. He'd held her arm in his hands as carefully as he could after the battle, the warmth of his healing magic sinking into her bones.

That had been hours ago. Now it was her turn on watch and she was tired, wet, sore and freezing cold. _Stupid robes,_ she groused, pointing her finger at the meager campfire they had managed to light. Even with the aid of magical flame, wet wood only burned so well. She shivered, cursing her thin robes for the hundredth time, when something thick fell over her shoulders.

"You looked like you needed it," Anders said, sitting close beside her.

"Thank you," she told him, pulling the edges of the blanket closer. "You should be sleeping."

"Can't sleep. Zombie werewolves will get me."

"They're blighted, not undead." They were both whispering, trying their best to not wake Nathaniel from where he was curled up on the bedroll at the opposite side of the fire.

"Do you really want to walk up to one and ask to be sure?" Anders shivered and stuck his hands into the sleeves of his robes.

"Here," Theodora said, unfolding the blanket and offering Anders one side. If they huddled close enough, the single blanket covered them both.

"See, this isn't so bad, is it?" Anders murmured, moving so that Theodora could rest her head on his shoulder. "I mean, I'm not saying that I would want to build a summer home here, but it's starting to grow on me."

Theodora curled closer to Anders, letting the heat that radiated off him chase away the evening cold. "It does have its advantages," she conceded, lacing her fingers with his.

**#25 – Mask**

He was probably the only person in the hall who knew that the hard look in her eyes as she passed judgment on the three cases she was presented was nothing more than a mask. If asked, he would bet everything he had that behind the serious expression, she was panicking and doubting every word that came out of her mouth. Thea never did like to talk out loud in front of a group.

His thoughts were confirmed when they were left alone, his arms wrapped securely around her while offering his services as a sounding board to her doubts, her hands trembling as they rested against his back.

**#45 – Eclipse**

He had such a laid back personality that it was easy to underestimate the power that could surge through him, his destructive potential overshadowed by his easygoing nature and tendency to heal those in need. If asked, he would say the same thing about her; that one could quickly forget that she could summon a firestorm or chain lightning with hands that had lovingly knitted items for her friends over the years.

**#24 – Strength**

"The two of you fight well," Nathaniel commented one evening while they set up camp. "I've noticed that your strengths make up for the other's weaknesses."

Theodora thought it over. While they usually mixed up patrols, it never failed that Anders was included more often than Velanna, even if they both seemed to have the same healing talents. It also never failed that Theodora and Anders would often find themselves fighting back to back, with her casting fire spells while he slowed down darkspawn with ice, which was something that she'd never gotten the hang of properly doing.

"Thank you," she said, wondering where this insightful bit of conversation was coming from. While he was normally polite, Nathaniel made sure to put everyone at arm's length, preferring to sit by himself and stare broodingly at a ring he wore on a chain around his neck. Sigrun had managed to coax something out of him once, something about him losing his intended bride in the Blight due to his father's actions, but she refused to elaborate, saying that it wasn't her story to tell.

"I should be the one to thank you. The way the two of you team up makes my job a lot easier."

She looked at him, realizing that he wore the faintest of smiles on his lips. "Anything to help out," she said, grinning back at him in return.

**#18 – Dream**

She knew she was in the Fade, as she often wandered there whenever she slept. It was usually a peaceful place, except tonight monsters roamed from every angle, gnashing their teeth and preparing to pounce, and she was defenseless against them. She tried to thrash, but something warm held her arms to her sides.

"Hush, you're having a nightmare. It's just a dream." There was a soft pressure on her forehead, almost as if someone had kissed her there. "I'll keep you safe."

She didn't know if it was the words or the quiet feeling of being held, but the monsters suddenly vanished in a puff of smoke, allowing her to peacefully wander once more. When she opened her eyes in the morning, she found herself in the circle of Anders's arms. Stretching up against him, she kissed his cheek in thanks as she settled back and waited for him to wake up.

**#10 – Drink**

The Circle had a limited supply of libations, most of which had been reserved for the mages higher up in the hierarchy than Theodora had ever been. Wynne often spoke fondly of her appreciation for specialty brewed ales, but Theodora was currently finding herself quite the wine aficionado here in Amaranthine.

That is, if one counted finishing one bottle of wine by themselves and stating quite loudly and repeatedly that one loved it as being an aficionado. Suffice to say, Theodora Amell was not one that could hold her alcohol, which amused Oghren to no end.

"You are going to regret this in the morning," Anders said from his spot by the fire. He was still nursing his second glass, but was quickly finding that watching her drunkenly attempt to dance with Ser Pounce-a-Lot was much more entertaining than staring into his cup all evening.

"But that's why I have _you_ here!" she exclaimed, sitting down next to him. She nearly missed the chair, had it not been for him quickly reaching out and scooping her onto his lap. She laughed and slapped her hand against the side of his head. "When I feel bad tomorrow, you'll just do your magic thing and poof! Headache is gone!"

He rolled his eyes at her, but leaned in to kiss her fondly. "Ah yes, the resident Spirit Healer gets quickly demoted to hangover prevention duty. Whatever am I to do with you?"

She smiled and the sight of it had his heart flipping dangerously against his ribs. "Oh, I think you can come up with a few things," she whispered, sliding her hands over his chest and capturing his mouth with hers.

Oghren belched loudly before taking a swig from his own personal wineskin. "Go get a room," he grunted.

**#15 – Silk**

He couldn't stop touching her, marveling at how someone who could gather a protective barrier of rock around themselves could still have skin as soft as silk.

**#40 – Whisper**

"What do you think they're talking about?" Sigrun asked Anders, the two of them watching as Nathaniel and Theodora scouted ahead. It was apparent that Nathaniel had taken on the role of Theodora's second-in-command, which was fine by Anders. He didn't want the responsibility.

He just didn't like the way that the man had his head bent towards hers, the two of them whispering amongst the other. "I don't have a clue. Do you think I should be worried?"

"Nah, he's not her type."

He tilted his head. "And just what _is_ her type then?"

She rolled her eyes. "If you don't know the answer to that, then you're not as smart as I thought you were."

**#41 – Wait**

"What are you doing?" she asked, watching as Anders blew out the candles in her study. She sat, dumbfounded, as he deliberately put aside her pen and inkwell. "I have work to do." Being an arlessa was harder than she thought it would be; people relied on her to provide for them, yet how could she figure out what they needed when Anders was taking away her important letters?

"You've been at this for two days straight," he said, tugging her to her feet. It was only then that she noticed just how stiff her back had gotten from being hunched over her desk, her growling stomach making her realize that she hadn't eaten anything substantial all day. "The rest of this can wait until you've had a proper meal and gotten some sleep."

She was touched that he would think to care for her like this, but she still couldn't stop the indelicate snort or the _yes, Mother_ muttered under her breath.

**#38 – Forever**

It was quiet moments like these where they lay together in the other's arms, not as Commander and Warden, but as Theodora and Anders that she wished they could stretch out forever, leaving everything else behind.

**#32 – Farewells**

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Theodora's tone wasn't accusing, just matter of fact.

Anders tightened the strap on his pack before slinging it over his shoulder. "I think my work here is done," he told her, scooping Pounce up in one hand. The kitten mewed, but settled in Anders's arms. "You don't really _need_ another mage here, do you?" He looked at her in such a way that she knew he was gauging her reaction to his words.

"Do I need another mage here?" she wondered. "No, not really. Throw too many of us here and next thing you know, there'll be Templars sent from the Circle and then Amaranthine becomes another Tower."

He looked hurt for a fraction of a second before covering his expression up. "So it's a good thing that I'm leaving. I haven't had a chance to canvass out all of the Keep for escape routes yet. I'd be better off making a run for it before things get really bad."

"I wasn't finished." She reached up and stroked her hand against the side of his face, her eyes softening when he pressed his cheek against her palm. "I might not _need_ another mage here, but I _want_ you here. That being said, I know you have wandering feet. Just remember that no matter how long you're gone, you'll always be welcome here."

"As a Warden?"

"No, just as Anders." She set Pounce down on the ground and placed Anders's fingers over her heart. "There will always be a place for you here, too."

He gave her a crooked smile. "I guess I won't be saying goodbye any time soon."

She stood up on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his. "I'll take an _I'll see you later_ instead."

He dropped his pack so he could give her a proper kiss. "Then I'll see you later."

He was back at his usual post three weeks later as if he had never left. Theodora didn't make a big fuss about his return, but she did kiss his cheek and murmur _welcome home_ to him before starting her morning duties.


	3. Constancy

Title: Constancy  
>Rating: PG for implied sex<br>Characters: Theodora Amell/Anders with a vague Nathaniel-Theodora and Bethany-Nathaniel added in.  
>Spoilers: DA2 endgame spoilers<br>Summary: He never thought that he'd see Amaranthine again, but there he was at the back door, waiting to be let in like a stray cat coming back from some adventure. Originally posted 4/26/11.

* * *

><p>He doesn't know why he's there, after all these years. After what happened in Kirkwall, he followed Hawke's advice and ran as fast and as far as he could from the destruction that he had caused. He didn't have a destination in mind, but it still surprised him when he found himself standing at the back kitchen door of Vigil's Keep. <em>She probably knows everything that happened by now,<em> he thought miserably, his knuckles raised and hesitating inches from the wood. _She probably has orders to kill you on sight; she probably _will_ kill you on sight regardless, after the way that you left…_

Anders hung his head and withdrew his hand. "This was a stupid idea," he muttered to himself. Bending to pick up the pack at his feet, he thought of the places that he could go. Ships were still in Amaranthine's harbor; he could find one that was headed towards Antiva or Rivain. Isabela once said that Rivain was nice this time of year, maybe he could…

"Are you going to stand there like that all evening or are you going to see if they'll let you in?" His breath caught in his throat at the sound of the voice behind him. Turning slowly, he was nearly brought to his knees at the familiar figure. Her hair was still as bright as ever, but instead of being fashioned into severe braided rolls at the base of her neck – and how he had loved to tangle his fingers in them, to muss the rigid style into something more relaxed – she wore her hair down in soft waves that trailed over her shoulders and down her back. She had a large basket of cut herbs in one arm and a bundle of flowers in her other hand.

He swallowed, his mind frantically trying to think of something to say. "I don't know if they'd want me here," he started. He was going to add something witty, but she never gave him a chance. Her cuttings fell to the ground and her arms were wrapped around his neck faster than he could blink, her mouth covering his in a kiss that was desperate and messy and oh so familiar.

"As I said before, there will always be a space for you here," she whispered, lacing her fingers with his. She opened the door and tugged on his hand, leading him inside the kitchens.

The warm smell of fresh baked bread greeted them and Anders felt his stomach twist on itself in hunger. He couldn't remember the last time that he had eaten. "I've missed you, Thea."

Theodora sniffled and her hold on his hand tightened. "I've missed you too," she said. "Come on, let's set you to rights."

* * *

><p>It had been weeks since he had a hot bath and years since he had felt safe enough to actually enjoy a long soak. He did so now, slinking down as far as he could in Theodora's tub until his knees broke the surface of the water and his ears were submerged. He stared at the ceiling, wondering just what he would say when Theodora eventually returned to her chambers. She'd stayed with him in the kitchens as he had hungrily devoured three plates' worth of food, saying nothing at the way that he had shoveled hot roasted potatoes into his mouth and gulped down goblets of chilled water. He had noticed the way that she had stared at him as he had eaten, moving only to refill his glass when it grew empty or to place more food on his plate. He had a brief thought that she was watching him as intently as she was because she had poisoned his meal, but then dismissed the notion just as quickly. The Theodora that he knew had no use for subterfuge. Had she wanted him dead, she would have merely set him on fire the moment that she had seen him.<p>

She'd left him at her bedroom, stopping long enough to mention that a bath had been drawn for him. The water smelled like her; the sharp scent of fresh herbs soothing the long-held knots in his neck and shoulders. _I don't have any right to be here,_ he thought, thinking back to the reunion he had with Nathaniel back in the Deep Roads. He absently rubbed his jaw, stubble catching on his fingers as he remembered the way Howe's fist had connected with his face.

_So you're alive after all,_ he had snarled, glowering at Anders. _For years I had hoped that you were dead, if only for her sake. _They hadn't said much to the other after that, but what Nathaniel said before leaving with Bethany had haunted him ever since.

_You can't imagine how hard it is to see Theodora stare off into the distance, knowing that she's hoping to see you walk back to her. You don't know how painful it is to see her put on a brave face while watching her die just a little bit more every day. Six years, Anders. She's _mourned_ you, and here you are, skulking around not even a stone's throw away._

Anders sat up in the tub, water sluicing down his shoulders. Pushing his hair out of his eyes, he stared at the nearby vanity, at all the little odds and ends scattered on the tabletop that could be tied to Theodora. _Leaving again is going to be the hardest thing I've ever done._

His eyes snapped towards the door when it softly opened. Theodora briefly turned to lock the door, her arms full with clean linens. "I would have sent for your clothes, but I figured that you wouldn't want them laundered," she said, draping a towel over the rim of the tub. "The robes hanging out in the laundry would have alerted Templars."

He smirked. "Well, they _do_ sort of scream out _I'm a mage,_ don't they?"

She let out a short snort of laughter before sobering. "People from Starkhaven have already come looking for you, you know," she told him, reaching out and grabbing hold of the bar of soap. She knelt at his side and gently began soaping his back, her fingers even more soothing than the hot water. "They searched the Vigil, thinking that I would have been hiding you. Things got…" she searched for a word. "_Tense_ before they were satisfied enough to leave."

He turned and cupped her cheek with his hand. "I'm so sorry, Thea. I never meant for you to…"

"Become involved? Anders, no matter what you say, you're still a Warden and I am still the Commander of the Grey. It was only logical that they search here." She leaned against his hand and closed her eyes. "How long are you planning on staying before you leave for good?"

"I should have never stopped. I've put you in danger."

Theodora opened her eyes and Anders was almost shocked at the anger that shone in her normally peaceful face. "The Towers are falling all over Thedas. Templars are striking mages down left and right for fear of maleficars and abominations running rampant. The Order provides a flimsy shield for me to stand behind, but I'm sure that it's only a matter of time before even that crumbles. Alistair is doing all he can to protect Ferelden's mages, yet there's only so much he can do. Things are bound to get much worse before they can even begin to look better; your appearance on my doorstep isn't going to tilt things in one direction or the other."

He opened his mouth to say something – _what_, he had no clue – when she pressed her index finger to his lips. "If you apologize one more time, I'm going to set your hair on fire. What else did you expect to happen when one blows up the Chantry with the Grand Cleric inside?"

His shoulders slumped. "I don't know." He flinched when she struck his chest with the sides of her fists.

"That's because you never _think_, Anders," she said, clenching her teeth even as hot tears slid down her cheeks. "You're great at setting events into motion, but you never put any thought into long term plans. That's why you were always captured whenever you escaped the Tower, except now instead of Templars dragging you back to be scolded by Irving and Greagoir, there are orders to kill you on sight." She buried her face against his neck, her hand weakly beating at his back as she let out a sob that all but tore his heart out of his chest. "I can't lose you like that. I _can't_, I…"

Anders pressed a kiss to the crown of her hair. "I wish I knew what to say," he murmured. "I want to tell you that things will be all right, that I'll just keep on running, but…"

"But you can't, can you?" She broke away from his embrace and stood up. Going over to the fireplace, she hugged her arms and stared into the flames. "Tell me one thing; was that entirely your idea or did Justice have any say in it?"

He froze momentarily before rising from the tub and wrapping a towel around his hips. "How did you know?"

She turned towards him. "Do you remember that last night we had together?"

He nodded. How could he forget? Memories of her body under his hands, her soft sighs and breathy moans had kept him company on long, lonely nights for years now. He and Justice had been merged for about a week when he had his first blackout. After waking up amidst several dead Templars, he decided that it would be safer for everyone, especially Theodora, if he wasn't at the Vigil. "What gave it away?"

"You called me Aura when we made love. You also asked her to look after Pounce instead of leaving him with me." She looked at him. "Is he…still in there?"

"Justice and I are one now," he explained. "There are times that he completely takes over, but for the most part, my actions are my own."

She swallowed. "Have you… used blood magic?"

"No. I figured becoming an abomination was bad enough. Why add fuel to the fire?" He reached out and twisted a lock of her hair around his finger. "I left because I didn't trust myself not to hurt you. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I had caused you pain."

Theodora stepped closer to him, her palms warm on his chest. "When Bethany came to us and explained that she had been travelling with you, I knew that you weren't coming back. Knowing that I'd never see you again was one of the most painful things I've ever gone through."

His face crumpled and he gathered her in his arms. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." He whispered apologies against her temple, her cheek, her lips, every inch of skin her robes revealed.

She walked backwards towards her bed. "The Vigil is safe for now," she told him, holding onto his hand with her left, her right unfastening clasps on her clothing. "Stay, at least until morning." She reached out for him and he was helpless to do anything but follow her lead, lost to the softness of her skin, the feeling of completion he'd never been able to recreate with his hands alone, the ensnaring tangle of red, red hair that seemed to wrap itself around his wrists as he framed her face with his hands and swallowed her cries with his mouth.

After, he lay there with Theodora in the circle of his arms, his fingers tracing idle patterns on her skin. The temptation to have at least one last good night's sleep was stronger than the urge to run, and he could feel his eyelids drooping.

She stirred in his arms and kissed his shoulder. "I love you," she breathed. His fingers stilled. They'd known each other since he had been brought into the Tower as a teenager and had seemed to instantly gravitate together. They were seldom apart during the day and snuck around the Tower for trysts during the night. Years had been measured by soft scarves and gloves she had knitted for him and by small trinkets he had picked up for her from merchants doing business at the Tower. She'd been there for his numerous escapes from the Circle and she'd been there when he had been caught and brought back. She'd laughed with him, cried with him, and they'd bled side by side as they fought together against the Architect and the Mother. Through all of that, they'd never once said how they felt. It was always there between them, unspoken yet apparent in every one of their actions, something that neither of them had ever felt needed to be said. And yet…

He kissed her forehead. "I love you too." Funny, how certain words held so much power. It didn't matter that his actions had set events into motion that would be bigger than one rogue mage. It didn't matter that he had an exiled prince out for his head or that he shared a body with a sometimes vengeful spirit of justice. Right then, his world seemed right and he tightened his arms around Theodora, searing the moment into his memory to keep him warm on the lonely nights that were soon to follow. At peace for the first time in a very long time, he drifted off to sleep.

Anders woke to find himself alone and the sheets beside him cold. He sat up, casting his eyes around the darkened bedroom. The view outside the window told him that it was close to dawn, meaning that he had slept longer than he had anticipated.

_Clever woman,_ he thought, slipping out of bed. _She hid my clothes. Can't go making a run for it pantsless, now can I?_ He wrapped a blanket around his waist and stirred up the dying embers at the fireplace. She did leave a tray of cheese and fruit, which he nibbled on while he waited restlessly for her.

He didn't have to wait long. She slipped into the room in a whirlwind of motion. "Here, put these on," she said, throwing a pair of pants and a tunic at him. "I've already refilled your pack with supplies; food, potions and herbs and such, and I've put in enough money from my own coffers to last us for a while if we're careful."

"Thank you," he said, pausing when her words sank in. "Wait, if _we're_ careful?"

She put her hand on her hip. Now that she was standing still, he could see that she was dressed for travel as well. She'd replaced her familiar robes with clothing similar to what she had thrown at him and her hair was done up in a single braid over her shoulder. "You honestly didn't think that I'd let you run away without following, did you?"

He grabbed her shoulders. "Thea, this is serious. I'm talking about changing the way that Thedas treats mages; it isn't going to be a walk in the park."

She arched her eyebrow. "You forget who you're talking to. Killing an archdemon and battling darkspawn aren't exactly delicate side hobbies for fragile ladies, you know." She broke out of his grip and went to an armoire, dragging out a staff. To the untrained eye, the weapon could be easily viewed as a tall walking stick. She went to her vanity and pulled a dagger out of one of the drawers, threading its sheath onto her belt and adding another knife to her boot. "I might not have done something as dramatic as you did to set things into motion, but I agree that something needed to be changed. With the Towers falling, there's going to be a need for someone to stand up and create something new, something that will give enough structure to train mages while letting us keep our freedom."

"And you think that we can do that?"

"Not alone. So, what was your plan after this?"

"I…" He sighed. "You're right; I don't have a plan."

She smiled. "And that is why you need me around."

He sat on the bed and pulled on the pants she had given him. "And what is this plan, o Commander?"

"We need to find my cousin. She was there with you in Kirkwall; she can give us the clout that we need. Having the Champion of Kirkwall and the Hero of Ferelden on your side can't hurt matters any, can they?"

"Hawke left Kirkwall in the opposite direction that I was running. She's going to be hard to find." Not to mention that the elf would be with her. He and Fenris rarely saw eye to eye on any issue, but their shared loyalty to Hawke kept things peaceful.

"Which is why we need to start looking."

"Speaking of looking, what about us? Templars have a distinct knack for finding me when I least expect them."

Digging in his pack, she pulled out two glass vials. "I've had these in my possession for years. Having the king as your best friend has its perks," she explained, the phylacteries glinting in the weak firelight. "We shouldn't destroy them here, but if we have them, then it gives us a head start, no?"

He couldn't help but feel impressed. She was literally holding their freedom in her hands. "And what of Amaranthine and the Wardens?"

She looked around the room, her expression faltering. "I'll miss Amaranthine, but while you were sleeping, I left several letters with Varel. One is to Alistair, explaining exactly why I've decided to run off. If he's in on our plans then he'll be able to stall anyone on our trail and give us more time. The second letter is for Nathaniel; I'm leaving Vigil's Keep and the title of Commander to him. He's been my Second for so long that this shouldn't come as a surprise to him. He loves Amaranthine even more than I do; he'll make a fine leader."

He arched his eyebrow. The way that Nathaniel had spoken to him in the Deep Roads made him think that the archer had more than simple loyalty and friendship in mind when it came to Theodora. "What makes you think that he won't follow us?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. If he does, Amaranthine will still be in good hands. I left a note in his letter saying that if he should choose to join us, then Varel is to take over. And if Nathaniel does come along, then we'll be adding a competent archer and another mage to our slowly growing group." She shouldered a second pack. "Bethany would kill him if he left her behind."

Anders pulled the tunic over his head. "Then it seems as if you thought of everything."

She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Which is exactly why you should bring me along. I fill in the details." She grew serious for a moment. "You asked me once to come with you on one of your escapes. I was too afraid to do it then, even though I wanted to more than anything. I'm asking you now," she held out her hand. "Come with me."

He stared at her hand for a brief moment before reaching out, his fingers circling her wrist. "Okay," he said hoarsely, feeling his heart swell at the thought of this woman leaving everything that she had gained behind in order to be with him. "But one last question, Thea; how are we going to leave the Vigil unnoticed?"

She smirked. "I haven't hung around a Keep full of rogues for years without picking up a trick or two." She squeezed his hand and picked up her staff. "Come on; let's go be apostates together."


	4. Happy Thoughts

Title: Happy Thoughts  
>Rating: G<br>Pairing: Anders/Theodora Amell  
>Spoilers: None<br>Summary: Private tutoring sessions rarely involved actual studying.

* * *

><p>"I thought you were supposed to be teaching me how to form a paralysis glyph."<p>

"I am." Anders rested his chin on Theodora's shoulder and wrapped his arms around her.

Theodora rolled her eyes. "If this is your idea of teaching, I pity your other pupils." She sighed contentedly, tilting her head and closing her eyes as Anders placed a series of kisses against the side of her neck.

"I don't have any other pupils," he told her, nipping at her earlobe. "I'm still surprised that Irving allowed his pet to be alone with me for so long."

She frowned. "I'm _not_ his pet," she grumped. Just because she was one of the few students to actually take lessons from First Enchanter did not mean that she was his favorite in the entire tower. She bit her tongue, deciding that telling him that the real reason Irving had appointed Anders as her mentor was because she was the only apprentice he trusted to keep an eye on their resident flight risk. First Enchanter figured that if Anders was responsible for one of his closest friend's education it might mean that he wouldn't have as many opportunities to escape.

Theodora had bit her tongue there too; no matter how many responsibilities First Enchanter gave Anders, Theodora knew that he would always find some way to make a break for it sooner or later. The only plus to this arrangement was that she and Anders would have more time alone to themselves. He had only recently passed his Harrowing – how he had managed to do so even though she'd been studying magic longer still threw her for a loop – and he had been put in charge of improving her grasp on the Creation school of magic. So far, they'd spent the majority of their lesson times necking in abandoned rooms – they'd also taken advantage of the fact that he now officially had a semi-private bedroom, which was a refreshing change from trysts against walls or bookcases in the dark corners of the Tower - than actually learning anything. Feeling paranoid, she'd gotten into the habit of studying late at night on the things they _should_ have covered, just in case she'd be quizzed by any other senior mages. The result was that while she might know the mechanics and theories behind each spell, she still couldn't perform anything higher than the most basic healing casts.

"I have absolutely no talent for Creation skills," Thea complained, leaning back against Anders's chest. They had taken over one of the smaller classrooms on the second floor of the Tower for the afternoon, choosing to sit against the wall closest to the bank of windows. Warm sunlight streamed through, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air.

"That's true; you tend to be better suited for blowing things up instead of patching them together." He laced his fingers with hers, bringing their hands up to eye level. He flexed his hands, urging Thea to mimic his movements. Lazily, she realized that he was manipulating her fingers into the motions needed to actually form the glyph they were supposed to be practicing, but her attention was drawn more to the differences between their hands. His were so much larger than hers and besides the slight callus on the side of his right ring finger from the way that he usually held his pen, his fingers were relatively smooth. He kept his nails trimmed close; the cuticles and nail beds stained a dark green from concocting potions, no matter how many times he scrubbed them.

"You've got the movements down," he started, taking his hands away from hers. "But when you put the smallest bit of magical energy…"

Thea performed the hex, a weak outline appearing on the ground in front of them that wavered before quickly fizzling out. "I don't _get_ this," she growled, propping her elbows on Anders's knees. "Give me any Primal spell and I can do it without any issues, but this…"

Anders frowned and pressed the side of his face against her hair. "Do me a favor and cast something. It doesn't matter what, just give me a spell." Thea held out her hand and instantly a round ball of bluish flame appeared in her palm. She closed her hand into a fist and then reopened it, frost covering her nails. "Good beginning to a blizzard spell. And how come I can't get my arcane bolts to look that good?" he commented, his breath stirring the little hairs that had escaped the braided coils at the back of her neck. "Now, what were you thinking of when you conjured it up?"

She shrugged. "Nothing. Spells like that come to me as easily as breathing."

"That's what I thought." He lifted his hands and performed the same motions they had been practicing all afternoon, the glyph on the floor glowing a bright green, the lines perfect, just like they should be. "That's how the Creation school is for me. If I want to zap someone with lightning, I have to think about it first." He rubbed her fingers and brought them to his lips to warm them again. "I wonder if that'll work for you. Whenever I think about bringing up fire, I have to picture the way that it looks and feels before I can cast successfully. The same goes for any of the other Primal spells."

"So what do I think about for Creation spells?" She tilted her head up at him, her eyes inquisitive. "What does it feel like for you when you cast?"

He wrapped his arms around her again. "I feel like I'm giving something back. It might sound silly, but I feel the most at peace whenever I heal." He gave her an encouraging squeeze. "Think of something that can give you the same feeling."

"So I should think of my happy place, huh?" She said it with a teasing tone, earning a smirk from Anders.

"Humor your mentor, okay?"

Theodora took a breath and closed her eyes. His suggestion had some merit; she had just finished reading a study on how mages tended to cast stronger spells when their minds were clear. It had something to do with their connection to the Fade or something; she had skimmed the article over breakfast one morning while trying to listen to Jowan with half an ear, so she hadn't quite gotten the facts down. She settled against Anders, letting all her thoughts drain away. She'd never truly meditated before, and definitely didn't have a so called happy place established, so she didn't know what image to settle on. Knitting had always been a peaceful outlet for her, so her mind instantly snapped to her latest project. She'd managed to get her hands on some of the softest wool she'd ever worked with in a beautiful greenish blue dye that had just screamed Anders's name to her. Winter would be there before they knew it and Anders had always hated having his fingers confined in gloves or mittens, so a pair of fingerless gauntlets had seemed like the perfect solution. Theodora concentrated on how the yarn felt between her fingers, how her wooden knitting needles clicked and slid together with each stitch. She took another breath and thought about her surroundings, trying her best to get centered.

_It was a surprise when she imagined herself knitting not in the Tower, but in a little stone cottage. She tried to grab onto any details, but all she got was the comforting warmth from the fire blazing in the hearth and bright sunshine that flooded the room, the large front windows displaying golden fields for as far as the eye could see._

"_Mama!" Theodora looked away from the window to see a little boy run inside. He was all gangly arms and legs with a shock of tousled honey blond hair atop his head. He ran straight up to her and she could clearly see that he had her bright green eyes. "Papa said I'm big enough to help with the harvest this year!"_

_A laugh drew her eyes up to the doorway. "He might be excited now, but I bet that'll fade once we start gathering wheat and cutting hay. Next thing I'll know, I'll find myself minus a partner." Theodora couldn't help noticing how Anders looked, the linen shirt stretched over his broad shoulders and his work trousers were tucked into sturdy boots. By far, the simple outfit looked far better on him than any mage robes she'd ever seen. "Dinner smells wonderful, Love," he said, going over to her. She closed her eyes, feeling a bone-deep sense of contentedness wash over her as he cradled her cheek in his palm and kissed her. _

"I almost hate to bring you out of this," Anders murmured. Theodora slowly blinked and once again, she was back in the Tower. "It's the happiest I've seen you look, and that's saying something for someone that's always so disgustingly optimistic."

Theodora raised her hands, her fingers weaving out the pattern she had memorized weeks ago. She stared at the floor where she wanted the glyph to go, remembering just how it felt to see Anders stare down at her with so much love in his eyes while their child laughed in the background.

It was as if a lock had clicked into place. "Fantastic!" Anders said, kissing her cheek. "Textbook perfect: straight lines, strong mana flow, and I bet that it would hold something for the usual amount of time." He moved out from behind her so he could stand up and examine her work.

"It looks pretty good, doesn't it?" she asked, standing up and walking to his side.

"Good? This looks like something I could have cast." He slung an arm around her shoulders, his eyes shining with pride. "And it's something that I had faith my star student could accomplish."

She smiled before tracing his jaw with her palm and going up on her tiptoes for a kiss. "What can I say? I managed this all because of you."


	5. Hooks and Needles

Title: Hooks and Needles  
>Rating: PG for brief references to sex<br>Pairings: Hawke + Anders friendship, established Anders/Theodora Amell, beginnings of Hawke/Fenris  
>Summary: The Amell family apparently has a fondness for yarn. Originally posted 828/11.

* * *

><p>Dinner with the Hawkes was becoming a regular occurrence for Anders. He knew that they didn't have much, but he was grateful that they were willing to share what they had with an extra mouth. When he had the spare coin, he would contribute with a loaf of bread or some fresh produce, but that wasn't very often, so he would offer to make repairs to their house or help with errands instead. He was in the middle of patching up a hole in the bedroom wall when Hawke came back.<p>

"Mother, you won't believe what I found today!" she crowed.

"Oh, Lexie, this is lovely!" That caught Anders'ss attention. Getting up from the floor, he made his way to the main room. Hawke was standing next to her mother, pulling out several hanks of yarn from her market bag. "How were you able to afford it?"

Alexandra went over to the table and pulled out a few carrots and potatoes from her bag as well. "One of the vendors bartered some junk pieces we had collected for the yarn. They said that there was a mistake in the dye lot and it was unsellable as is; the junk I would have sold would have only gotten us a few copper bits, so I figured it was an even trade."

Anders stared at the two women, his chest tight. _What is it with this family and yarn,_ he wondered. _The whole lot of them must have been cats in a previous life._ He let his mind wander back to the Circle Tower, to endless nights of watching Theodora knit, of listening to the soothing click of her needles as they slid together while she worked on a hat or a scarf or the multitude of socks she had made for the other mages. If he thought hard enough, he could picture the way that candlelight would reflect off her hair as she worked, her eyes squinting in the dim light as she counted rows. "What do you plan on making with that?" he asked, bringing himself back to the present.

"Oh, I don't know. I was thinking that we could use a couple of blankets, or maybe I could make several that I could sell in Hightown for some extra money."

"Well, whatever you plan on doing can wait until later," Leandra said, carefully putting the pale grey hanks of wool back in the bag. "Dinner is just about ready."

* * *

><p>After dinner, Anders found himself sitting with Alexandra in the third room of the house. There wasn't any sort of furniture, but Hawke had said that she and her sister slept there so that their mother could have one of the two beds in the other room. There was a neatly folded pile of blankets with two lumpy looking pillows stacked on top in the corner, which made Anders make a mental note to see if he could find an extra cot or two so his friends wouldn't have to sleep on the floor.<p>

"I still can't believe I got these practically free," Hawke said, taking one of the hanks out of the bag and attempting to unravel it. She wasn't having the best of luck, so Anders took the hank out of her hand and picked at the knot she had been working at. Reflex memory had the yarn unraveled enough for him to give the start of the string to Alexandra and take the rest to hook over his hands.

"You look like you've done this before," she noted.

He stared at the yarn, his arms moving in a slow circle in front of him to help as she wound it into a ball. "I had a…a friend," he started, noticing that the tight feeling in his chest had returned. "Who was – _is_ – a prolific knitter. She'd get me to help her with this all the time," he let out a dry sounding chuckle, "probably to keep me out of trouble with the templars. Actually, she's your cousin."

"I like using crochet hooks instead of knitting needles myself. I never could get the hang…" Alexandra stopped rolling up the ball and stared at him, his words sinking in. "Wait. I have a cousin? And you _know_ her?"

"Well, seeing as she's the Hero of Ferelden and the person responsible for conscripting me into the Grey Wardens, yes, I do know her." He dropped the sarcastic tone and stared hard at the yarn in his hands. "You look so much like Thea that I thought you were her when I first saw you in my clinic. Besides your hair color, the two of you could have been twins."

"Mother says I take after the Amell side of the family more, even if I did get Father's hair." She began to roll the ball up again. "What's she like, this Thea?"

"She's a mage, like me. I met her in the Circle; she said that she'd been there ever since she had been five. The templars caught her when she accidentally set the family hayloft on fire during the winter – she's always been best with the primal school of magic, especially the fire spells." He smiled fondly. "She would sneak out during the night and visit me whenever I was taken to solitary confinement after the templars brought me back to the Tower after my escapes, usually bringing me a book to pass the time with."

"You were good friends with her, then?"

He thought back to the years spent together, of laughing and passing notes when they should have been studying, talking about the world outside their little island on the lake, the hours he had spent worrying about her when she had gone in for her Harrowing. Of the pain and perverse jealousy he had felt when she had been banished. If only he had known that permanently leaving the Tower only took aiding a blood mage, he would have offered to help her with Jowan in the first place. Granted, he had never known Jowan had been a blood mage, but _still_. "Yes, you could say that we were good friends." He sighed and let himself think of soft, bare skin that turned golden in the firelight, of the sharp prickle of fingernails against his back, of ardent kisses and soft sighs and _oh, Anders_.

As perceptive as ever, Alexandra read his body language. "You miss her, don't you?"

"More than I thought I would." He stretched his legs out in front of him. "Okay, that's a lie. I _knew_ that I would miss her terribly, but knowing about it and actually experiencing it are two different things. She doesn't know about Justice and me; I don't know what she would do if she did."

Alexandra stared at him and put the finished ball of yarn in her bag. "There never was any bullying from other Wardens, was there?" she quietly asked.

Anders shook his head. "No, there wasn't. I left after the first time Justice turned to vengeance. I couldn't, I _wouldn't_ put Theodora in any sort of danger. For that to happen, I had to leave." He closed his eyes and remembered standing over their bed, his pack slung over his shoulder. She had been tangled in the rumpled sheets with a soft smile on her lips and her hair spread out around her like a fiery halo, her arm stretched out in the space he normally occupied as if she had tried to hold onto him in her sleep.

Leaving her then had been the hardest thing he had ever done and one of the things that he regretted the most, even if leaving meant that she would be safe from him.

"I should probably go," he said, wanting to get away from painful memories and eyes that looked so much like the ones he left behind. "Patients start to show around this time. Thanks for dinner, Allie. I really appreciate it."

Hawke stood up and leaned against the doorway, watching as Anders gallantly kissed her mother's hand and waved to Bethany before leaving. She sighed, thinking that out of everyone that she knew, Anders was the only one to call her the familiar _Allie_. Before him, the only other person to call her by that name had been her father.

"Such a nice man," Leandra said, going over to her daughter. "And now that he's getting regular meals and putting some meat on his bones, he's rather handsome."

Alexandra rolled her eyes. She thought of Anders as someone who, in time, could become a very close friend. Bethany had already taken a liking to him because he was helping her sharpen her healing spells and if Bethany liked someone, then they were all right in her book as well. Yet if there was anyone that made butterflies flutter in the pit of her stomach, it would have to be Fenris. The two of them might not see eye to eye on certain topics, but she found that he was an engaging and interesting debate partner. _Oh, be honest with yourself, Hawke. You think his eyes are pretty and his voice makes your knees turn to melted butter. The fact that he flirts back with you isn't all that bad either._ "I get the hint, Mother," she said, grinning. "But I think that you're wasting your time on Anders. His heart belongs to someone else already."


	6. Into Your Arms

Title: Into Your Arms  
>Rating: PG for implied nudity<br>Summary: After a grueling first day as Warden Commander, Theodora Amell fights the urge to go all Mother Hen over a certain unconscious mage. Originally posted 10/15/11.

* * *

><p>Theodora settled in her chair and refused to look behind her. It had been a long day; first with the final leg of the journey from Denerim to Amaranthine, then with the surprise attack on the Vigil, and finally with the Joining she had recently witnessed. She stared into the fire. It had been such a shame to lose Mhairi; she had been a valuable asset in the fighting and Thea had genuinely enjoyed her company on the road.<p>

She bent to pick up a basket that had been shipped before her arrival. Her fingers circled around rosewood needles and the best wool she had ever had the pleasure of working with. Upon a brief return to the Circle for her personal belongings, the only things Thea had discovered that had been worth salvaging had been a few trinkets and her collection of various sized knitting needles. They were a comfort now; constant use had worn small pressure marks in the wood where her fingers normally sat and their weight was familiar in her hands. The yarn in her basket was new and definitely one of the perks of being a close friend to the new king. Previously, she only had lesser quality yarn to use; feeling the soft material slide over her fingers was definitely a luxury she'd never had before. Deftly creating a slipknot, she decided that she'd make a new blanket for herself. If the Vigil was anything like the Circle Tower in regards to hidden drafts and seeping cold, she'd soon need the extra warmth. As if on its own accord, several rows of garter stitching quickly formed - it was the most basic of patterns that she knew and something that she could do mindlessly. It was a good thing too; all her attention was riveted on the scene behind her, the very same scene she was trying very hard not to look back upon. If she did, she knew that she'd abandon her project to go over and hover. Hovering would soon turn to sitting, which would give way to worrying, which was something she had done far too much of in recent months.

Yet she couldn't ignore the sudden rustling sound and accompanying groan. Dropping her needles back into the basket, she quickly stood up and turned around. Anders had collapsed after taking his Joining – she shuddered at the memory of his eyes rolling back into his head and his legs falling out from under him. The events had been a jumble afterwards; her robes rustling as she ran to his side, a frantic _Anders!_ slipping from her lips as she tried to catch him, his dead weight too much for her to hold up on her own and her knees taking the brunt of the fall. She'd let out a sigh of relief when she felt his pulse beat strongly underneath her fingers, yet she had refused to leave him, watching like a hawk for any sign of him waking. She'd never thought to inquire from Alistair how long she had been out in Ostagar and she hadn't had the time or the resources to research the process herself, so she had no idea how long the last portion of the Joining took. When it was obvious that he wasn't going to wake any time soon, she had asked two of the remaining guards to help her get Anders to a proper bed. Surprisingly, they hadn't said a word about putting him in their Arlessa's bedchambers, nor did they object when she dismissed them with a quiet word of thanks.

Perching at the side of the bed, she took one of Anders's hands in her own and brushed hair out of his eyes with her other. His fingers tightened around hers before his eyes finally opened.

"Hey," she whispered, carding her fingers through his hair. She'd long since taken out the leather string he'd tied it back with, the firelight turning his hair a soft copper-gold as it settled around his face.

Anders licked his lips. "I'm feeling an incredibly strong case of déjà vu," he murmured, reaching out and running his hand over her arm. "Didn't we already do this when I passed my Harrowing?"

She gave him a small smile. "With a few minor changes." She could remember the day that templars had dragged Anders out of the Harrowing Chamber and back to the Apprentice Quarters. No one had been able to pry her from his side as she waited for him to wake and she had never been so relieved to see him give her one of his cheesy little grins that he always had for her.

"Ah, yes. There's no templar posted at the door and…" he used his free hand to lift the bedcovers and peek underneath. "I wasn't naked. My, my, I wonder which sneaky mage-thief stole my robes."

Thea could feel her cheeks turn a bright red. "I didn't want to get my nice, clean sheets dirty." She'd never seen Anders nude before – they might have had numerous trysts hidden behind darkened stairwells or alcoves in the Tower, but the most she'd ever seen of him had been the little triangle of skin right where the collar of his robes gaped. While she had taken her time undoing hidden ties and hooks in order to disturb him as little as possible, she had been far too preoccupied to actually take the opportunity to appreciate the expanses of flesh that had been exposed with every layer of clothing she had taken off.

She looked now, finally noticing the span of his shoulders. Years of practicing staff-work had carved out lean muscles on his lanky frame in contrast to the massive bulk of the templars and their swords. She wondered just how long he had been on the run; she could see the barest hint of his ribs at his sides when he sat up, telling her that he hadn't had a decent meal in quite some time. There were also fresh bruises along those very same ribs; the familiar shape of gauntleted fists and metal tipped boots sharply displayed against his sun-deprived skin made her eyes narrow. Without thinking, she gingerly traced the outer edges of his bruises and used the last of her energy to let out a tendril of healing magic that made the marks fade considerably. Had she been any better in the Creation school of magic, she probably could have healed them completely, but she was more adept at summoning destructive forces of nature instead.

"That tickles," he quipped, picking up her hand and dropping kisses on her fingertips. Looking around the room, he gave her a playful smirk. "So, not wanting to get your sheets dirty led to me being without my pants, huh?"

"Anders, you don't _wear_ pants."

"Pants, robes, you get the idea." Leaning on his elbow, he waggled his eyebrows at her. "If you truly wanted me naked, my lady, all you had to do was ask."

She rolled her eyes. "Only you could think of jokes after what we just did. Even Alistair had given my Joining some sense of reverence."

"If I had known that all it took to be free of the Tower was drinking down a bit of darkspawn blood, I would have done it a lot earlier."

"And you don't have any questions? Anything at all?" There was so much that she wanted to tell him, but she didn't know how to say _I just gave you a life expectancy of only thirty more years, Anders. You'll be plagued by nightmares and we'll never have any of those magical, troublemaking, redheaded babies with your eyes that we always talked about - but look on the bright side, at least you're free of the Circle!_

"I'm sure I will later," he drawled, tugging on her arm to bring her closer. Before she knew it, he had swung his legs over the side of the bed and trapped her between them, his fingers nimbly undoing her robes with a speed that only a fellow mage familiar with the clasps and bindings of her clothing could be. "But for right now, I'm just glad that we're together and safe."

"Relatively safe," she agreed, tilting her head to the side to give him room to trail a path of kisses down to her exposed clavicle. Thea sighed and sifted her hands through his hair to keep him close. "There's still the threat of darkspawn attacking and there's that prisoner in the dungeons that needs looking after and…"

"And all that can wait until later." Anders pulled her into bed with him and with a few moves, had his arms around her and Thea's head against his shoulder. "You're so drained that you're shaking."

She pressed a kiss against his chest, the sound of his heart beating against her ear making her drowsy. "Mana depletion," she said as an explanation. "I'll be fine in a few hours." Morrigan had tried to teach her how to use death magic to replenish her stores, but Thea had never gotten the hang of it.

"I'll bet," Anders agreed, his fingers taking out the pins in her hair that kept the twin buns at the base of her neck in place. "I've never seen you cast firestorms that large before."

She yawned. "I've had some real-world opportunities to practice." Thea stretched and sighed contentedly at the feel of Anders's fingers rubbing the base of her neck, his touch loosening tension she had held there for so long that she had forgotten just what it had felt like to have it disappear.

"Mm-hmm. This is a nice room," he commented, switching topics. "You have a very comfortable bed. I'm almost afraid to see what we non-Arlessa folk are going to be offered for sleeping quarters."

Idly, she followed the sparse line of hair from his chest down to his stomach with a lone finger, her touch making Anders suck in a breath. "You can stay here," she told him quietly, almost cautiously. "If you don't mind sharing a very comfortable bed with me."

He tilted her head up to meet him as he bent his head down for a kiss and it was like standing in the middle of a rainstorm after a very long drought. Anders might be one of the most gifted healers she had ever come across, but the magic that leaked from him when they were intimate was primal, the tang of lyrium and ozone enveloping her like the embrace of an old friend she hadn't seen in a very long time. "I think that arrangement would be suitable," he murmured huskily against her lips. Where their first kiss had been gentle, the second kiss quickly grew into something that left them both gasping for air, the prickle of barely contained lightning underneath Anders's fingertips drawing out a ragged moan from Thea.

Anders let out a groan and buried his face against the crook of her neck. "Hold that thought, sweetheart," he said, his thumbs running lazy circles against the curve of her waist. "There'll be time enough for this later, when we're both not as tired."

She made a token protest, but she could feel the day's events catch up to her. Had she not been lying down, she would have swayed on her feet. "Tease," she said, nipping at his bottom lip one more time just because she could.

"It's one of my more endearing traits," he said breezily, not bothering to cover his yawn. "Maker's breath, Amell. Tell me that being this worn out isn't part of the Warden job description. I don't know if I can handle feeling like this all the time."

She shook her head. "No, you just had a big day." Walking her fingers up his chest, she propped herself on an elbow. "However did you manage to get caught anyway?"

He shrugged. "They snagged me in Denerim."

Thea's brow furrowed. "What were you doing there?" She would have thought that once escaping, Anders would have taken advantage of the general chaos that still lingered weeks after the defeat of the Archdemon and jumped aboard a ship bound for someplace else.

Anders reached out and twirled a long lock of her hair between his fingers. "I was looking for you."

She opened her mouth to say something, but words failed her. Over the years, Thea had discovered that Anders had a knack for saying something without actually uttering the exact words. How he stared at her and the way that his hand slid over her skin to gently cup her cheek told her that when choosing between the high probability of getting caught again in a large city while looking for a mage that he didn't even know was still alive or not and complete freedom, Anders had chosen her. Leaning over, Thea brushed her lips across his, her heart beating frantically against her ribs. "Well, it looks like you found me," she said, emotion making her voice crack.

"And so I did." He gave her one of his lopsided smiles she so treasured, his fingers tangling further in her hair. "Funny, I was brought to the Vigil on the same day that you yourself arrived. It's almost like it was meant to be."

She settled against Anders's side, her arms holding onto him tightly. "Things are so uncertain," she said, her cheek pressed against his chest. "I can't tell you what's going to happen tomorrow or weeks from now, but I do know that I'm glad that you're here with me, Anders."

He planted a kiss against her forehead. "Ah, Theodora." It was incredibly rare of him to use her given name. "There's no place else I'd rather be."


	7. Sparks Fly

Title: Sparks Fly  
>Rating: PG-13<br>Pairing: Theodora Amell/Anders  
>Summary: Two teenagers breaking curfew to fool around. What could possibly go wrong?<br>Note: De-anonning from the kmeme. Original poster requested F!Amell/Anders making out in the Circle Tower.

* * *

><p>"This is insane."<p>

"What, this?" Anders opened up the storage closet and peeked inside. "This is two hormonal teenagers looking for a bit of privacy. This is completely normal."

Theodora rolled her eyes and stepped inside, neatly avoiding a mop and bucket. "Sneaking out past curfew is _crazy_. We're going to get caught." Nevertheless, she reached for Anders as he made sure that the door was securely closed.

"Amell, relax," he drawled, backing her up towards the wall. "You're with me; what can possibly go wrong?"

She let out a little huff of breath that quickly turned into a sigh when his lips found the sensitive spot underneath her ear she hadn't been aware of possessing. "So says the apprentice who's been captured twice while trying to break out of here. I'm surprised they don't have you on permanent watch."

"I haven't made a run for it in months; I'm waiting until they let their guard down. Hey," Anders softly tapped at the side of Thea's head with his index finger. "Remember that little voice of reason you always listen to in there? Give it a night off. Be reckless for once."

She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. "I know, it's just…" she sighed and leaned her head back against the storage wall. "I'm making a big mess of things, aren't I?"

He conjured a small spell wisp that gave the area around their faces a soft white glow. "No you aren't. Being such a stickler for the rules is what I like most about you. You keep me honest." He leaned in and gave her a brief kiss.

"Well, someone has to, Maker knows you like to throw rules and caution to the Void every chance you get." She draped her arms over his shoulders. "Now, can we please get back to being two hormonal teenagers looking for a bit of privacy?"

The spell wisp flickered before going out completely. "Direct and to the point. Just another thing I like about you, Thea."

"Shut up and kiss me already." He might not have been able to see her, but he definitely heard the smirk in her voice.

"As my lady commands."

* * *

><p>There was something about Anders that made her lose track of time whenever she was with him, even when they were doing mundane, everyday tasks around the tower. For all Thea knew, they could have been in that storage closet for five minutes or they could have been in there for five hours. She didn't care either, so long as Anders never stopped touching her. He finally figured out the clasp that held her robes together at the neck and she hissed in pleasure at the way his teeth nipped at her throat and collarbone. She gave a brief thought to bruises, but figured that the least he could do after putting them there would be to heal them for her before anyone caught sight of them.<p>

"You're amazing," he murmured, his hands skimming along her sides before palming her breasts. Thea had hooked one of her legs around his waist and she gasped, her hips rocking up to meet his. Anders bit out a groan and dropped his head onto her shoulder. Her hands were in his hair and he didn't mind the slight stinging as she tugged to haul him up for another kiss because her mouth was on his and the way she kissed was downright addictive. He gave a slight chuckle; who would have thought that quiet, demure, let's-play-by-the-rules-at-all-times Theodora Amell would have it in her to throw all inhibitions aside? He was never one to wax poetic on anything, but at that moment, he imagined that they were so perfectly aligned that they were like two pieces of a matched set finally coming together. _And to think, we still have all our clothes on._ He didn't know just how far she'd allow him to take this tonight, but he could definitely see more stolen moments in their future. "You _smell_ amazing." Thea was all autumn, from the taste of crisp apples she must have snacked on before their meeting to the warm smell of spices that lingered on her skin from the time she had recently spent on kitchen duty helping the cooks. He closed his eyes and he could almost imagine the smell of freshly fallen leaves burning… Wait, that wasn't his imagination. "Do you smell something burning?"

"Something…?" Thea opened her eyes and sucked in a sharp breath. "Shit!" Batting madly at his shoulder, she put out the beginnings of a small flame that had caught on Anders's robe. "I am so, _so_ sorry!" She conjured her own spell wisp and frantically looked him over for any signs of injury. Adrenaline seeping away, she finally noticed that Anders's shoulders were shaking not because he was hurt, but because he was _laughing_ at her.

"I'm sorry," he said, even if the grin he gave her said otherwise. "It isn't every day that I get to see you lose control of your magic like that, especially when it comes to fire." Out of all the Circle's apprentices in their age group, Thea was the most accomplished in the primal school of magic and she was a natural at calling up fire. Pure male satisfaction rolled around in Anders's chest at the thought that he had been the one to make her lose focus.

"It isn't funny," she whispered, ears straining to hear if their commotion had alerted any of the Templars on duty. Anders had reassured her that the hallway they were in was out of the guard rotation after a certain hour, but in her experience, even an accidental whisper of leaked magic tended to bring at least one Templar around to investigate.

"Sure it is," he whispered back, his hands warm on her waist. "Later on, we'll think back on this moment and laugh. Now, get back over here, Sparky."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but grabbed at the front of his robes to yank him closer. "So help me, if that nickname sticks…"

"Oooh, threats. I'm shaking." He would have joked with her more, but there were more important things to do with his mouth, like trailing a line of kisses down her throat and enjoying the way she shivered against him. He was in the middle of working another hidden clasp on the front of her robes free when she hitched her other leg around his waist and rolled her hips _just so_. With a muffled moan, he pressed her further along the wall and grinded against her, his mouth messily meeting with hers in a tangle of lips and teeth and tongue that had them both breathing hard. Clasp forgotten, the hand that wasn't supporting his weight on the wall slid up Thea's thigh, rucking up her clothing in the process.

"Anders…" She sucked at his top lip in a way that made him dizzy. "Anders…" The air in the small space seemed to grow thick around them and Thea nuzzled the side of his neck, swearing that he smelled just like the breeze before a thunderstorm. "_Anders!_" The last was said on a yelp, the sharp sting of electricity shaking her out of her daze.

"Oh, damn, I'm sorry!" Anders knelt down to inspect the damage. His hands roved over the back of her thigh and he let out a small tendril of healing magic to soothe away the fingertip-shaped marks he had caused. "Are you okay?"

She arched an eyebrow. "Was that payback for me scorching your robes?"

"Well, they _are_ my favorite pair, but I can safely say that I've never done that with a girl before." Standing back up, he nudged her nose with his affectionately. "You aren't mad, are you?"

She was trying to ignore the insinuation that he had been in this closet with someone else before her, but she shook her head. "No harm done," she told him, reluctantly stepping away. "But I think that we should probably be getting…" She would have finished her sentence, but the door to the closet opened. The figure was backlit from the torches in the hallway outside, but there was no mistaking Templar armor.

"And what do we have here?"

Anders instinctively stood in front of Thea and held his hands out. "There's a reasonable explanation to this, I swear."

* * *

><p>"We were struck with the sudden urge to do some late night cleaning?" Theodora asked sarcastically, setting down a bucket full of sudsy water.<p>

On his knees a few feet away, Anders shrugged. "It was the best I could come up with under pressure."

Thea grimaced, thinking that it was bad enough that they had been caught, but that they had been caught by the _Knight Commander_ was even worse. He had escorted them back to their respective dormitories and then first thing later on that morning, he had taken them both directly to the First Enchanter where they had been treated to a dual reading of the riot act about decorum and responsibility as well as a lengthy review of curfew rules. Irving had looked at Thea with such disappointment that she had been reduced to staring glumly at her shoes and meekly nodding in acceptance at their punishment.

"On the bright side," she said cheerfully, folding the sleeves of her robes up over her elbow so they wouldn't get wet. She took up a brush and dunked it in the bucket, going down on her knees to begin scrubbing the hallway. "We're missing classes right now. Magical Theory is always so boring. If I could get away with it, I'd figure out how to nap through the lectures."

Anders snorted and began to scrub his way over to her. "Why Theodora Amell, I do believe this is the first time that I've heard you say something negative about classes." He smirked and nudged her with his shoulder. "Some of my bad habits must be rubbing off on you."

"What can I say? I keep you honest and you keep me from being a complete stick-in-the-mud."

He grinned. "Sweetheart, after last night, I don't think I could _ever_ call you a stick-in-the-mud again."

Thea blushed, her cheeks turning almost as red as her hair. "About that," she said, the stone in front of her brush suddenly incredibly interesting. "You aren't planning on taking anyone else to that closet, are you? Because _I'm_ not planning on taking any other boy there." The last was said in a rush and she cautiously looked up at him to catch his reaction.

"Well, I was thinking about making that closet exclusive to just me and you." He leaned closer to her. "There are some other nooks and alcoves in this tower that I think deserve to be looked into as well. You know, _exclusively_."

Checking to see if the Templar posted in the hallway to watch them was looking the other way, Thea quickly brushed her mouth over Anders's. "I think I'd like that," she said with a smile.

"So long as someone doesn't set my clothes on fire."

She couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of her chest. "I'll resist the urge if you can keep the lighting zaps down to a minimum." Dunking her brush in her bucket again, she playfully elbowed him in the side. "Now get to scrubbing, Sparklefingers."


	8. Frogging Out

Title: Frogging Out  
>Rating: G<br>Character: Theodora Amell  
>Pairing: AmellAnders  
>Note: "Frogging" is a knitting (heck, it can be used for crochet too) term describing the act of ripping out your stitches to start new. It's called frogging because you "rip it, rip it" until you get to a starting point of your choice.<br>Note the second: This takes place during DA2, roughly a few months after the Deep Roads Expedition.

* * *

><p>Theodora blindly sat down in her favorite chair, her hands clenched into fists. <em>He has a clinic. That's where my sister and I found him.<em> She winced when she realized that her fingernails were pressing hard into the flesh of her palms, leaving red crescents in their wake. While discovering that she had a cousin - two, if you counted Bethany's sister Alexandra – was a pleasant surprise, Bethany's accidental blurting of Anders' whereabouts was something she never expected.

Smoothing her shaking hands across her lap, Thea remembered the way Bethany's eyes had gone round and her hand had flown to her mouth, almost as if she wanted to grab the last words that had come from her lips and swallow them again. _"I shouldn't have said, he made me promise not to tell you."_

"Really, Amell," Thea said, standing up from her seat to pace in tight circles close to her fireplace. "You should have seen this coming." She should have seen a lot of things coming, like the way that Anders had often looked longingly towards the horizon in the weeks before he left; how he had spent more time than usual with her, his expression altogether wistful and pensive. She should have picked something up in the way he had fiercely kissed her that last night they spent together, his hands slowly roving across her body as if he had wanted to memorize every dip and curve.

She should have prepared herself for how cold the sheets were when she woke that morning. He hadn't left a note – notes and long goodbyes had never been his thing in the Circle – but somehow she had known that he was gone all the same.

She turned towards the basket she always kept nearby that held her works in progresses. Her hands brushed past the unfinished fingerless gauntlets she had meant for Nathaniel and the pair of socks she had promised Sigrun so long ago yet never completed until she pulled a bulky piece from the bottom of the basket. Slowly unfolding it, she shook the piece out until she had a long scarf. It was a silly tradition, one that had started after one of Anders' earlier escape attempts. He had complained that solitary confinement had been incredibly cold that she had knitted him a quick scarf to keep him warm. In the end of it all, Thea had knitted him a total of five scarves, starting each of them as soon as she had heard word of his escape just so she would have it ready in time for his Templar-escorted return.

This one wasn't any different. She had been aware of the looks that the rest of the Wardens had given her, the cautious distance everyone had afforded her. Even Nathaniel, who had become something of a dear friend and her most trusted confidant, had treated the subject of Anders' sudden departure as delicately as someone walking on glass would. Foolishly, she had shrugged Anders' absence off as something brief, something that in several weeks to a month's time would see him walking back through the Vigil's gates, his trademark carefree smirk in place like it had always been. She'd started his new scarf that afternoon, picking an earthy green that would look well on him. A week turned into a month, a month into two, and still Thea knitted, thinking about how the both of them would laugh at how comically long the scarf had gotten in his absence.

Somehow, a little part of her had always known that given the chance, Anders would one day leave and never return. Long before the original green yarn had given way to a multitude of different colors and the simple garter pattern had evolved into a random pattern of moss stitching and intricate cables, Thea had known. And still she knitted. Any chance that she got, any little pocket of time spent between running the arling and battling darkspawn, she knitted. Even when she was so tired from her duties as Warden Commander that she all but stumbled into bed, she still picked up Anders' scarf, her fingers knowing where to push her needles even when her eyes were too blurry to see the stitches straight. The months turned into a year, then longer, and she couldn't make herself stop. To her, finishing the scarf and binding it off meant that she would have to accept the reality of Anders never coming back and that was something that she hadn't been ready to do.

"He was supposed to come back," she croaked, her voice breaking. "He _always_ comes back." She pressed the side of her face against the material, breathing deep and pretending for an instant that the cloth smelled like him, like elfroot and lyrium and something unidentifiably male that had lingered on the sheets and pillows for weeks after he had left. Her fingers tightened on the scarf as she remembered how she had curled up into the spot he had always slept in until his scent had eventually faded away to nothingness.

"He has a clinic," she said, taking a breath to steady herself. Saying it out loud made it sound all the more real. "He made Bethany promise not to tell me where he was." Very deliberately, she took one of the rosewood needles out of the ball of yarn and set it aside. She took the other needle and slid the working stitches off of it, the move painfully twisting something in her chest.

"He doesn't mean to come back." She couldn't help the tears that slid down her cheeks as she pulled the scarf apart stitch by stitch. She wanted to scream, she wanted to _howl_, but she quietly rolled her grief into an ever growing ball instead, snipping the yarn at a point where she had originally joined colors when the ball became too big to manage. Wiping her face with the heels of her hands, she sat on the floor with her back against the leg of her chair, the beginning strand of yarn all that was left of the scarf. She was about to indulge in a completely selfish wallowing of heartsickness when she remembered the last thing Bethany said before the two of them had parted for the evening.

"_Once we got to know him,_ _he spoke of you often,"_ Bethany had said. _"And he spoke of you fondly. Even if he never said it out loud, I could tell that you meant a great deal to him." _

Thea stared at the yarn in her slack hands. Wiping at her face again, she rummaged through her needle collection until she found a set of circular needles. Yarn in hand, she created a slip knot and began to cast on stitches. She worked until her fingers began to ache and her legs went numb from sitting on the cold stone floor for so long. The yarn she had balled up would make an odd combination on the new shawl she had in mind, but she would make it work.

Anders might be lost to her, but she had memories of him – the green that went so well against his warm brown eyes, the blue that matched his favorite shirt, the yellow that was almost a match for his hair – that she could wrap herself up in. The warmth from the finished product might pale in comparison to having his arms around her, but if that was all she would ever have of him, she would take it.


End file.
